


Sharpening the Blade

by ptw30



Series: Blade!Shiro [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Found Family, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Multi, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Pack Dynamics, Prostitution, Set in the Galra Empire, Shiro & Keith are Siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2018-12-23 11:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 31,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11988435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ptw30/pseuds/ptw30
Summary: A collection of stories in which Shiro and Keith are siblings and are adopted by the Blade of Marmora. They're mostly prompts from Tumblr, set in the same universe as "Double-Edged Dagger." Some stories are from the series but don't fit in the actual linear storyline. Others are "what if" prompts from the same universe.





	1. Swedish Fish and Tiny Tails

**Author's Note:**

> I originally planned to post these stories as "chapters" in "Double-Edged Dagger" after I finished the series storyline. However, since some stories are AU and others take place before the "official" series opens, I figured it might be better to post the stories in a different collection. Hope you enjoy!

**Prompt:**

**[thepheonixqueen](http://thepheonixqueen.tumblr.com/)**  asked: I love Blade!Shiro so much! SInce the last chapter was kind heartbreaking I'd like make a happy request! Would it be possible to see Shiro being shown/meeting baby!Keith for the first time? (with a tiny tail to curl around a finger possibly?)

* * *

 

Shiro remembered the exact moment Keith was born. Munching on Swedish Fish during recess, staring at the dry desert landscape before him, Shiro gasped as a fierce, resounding roar echoed in his ears. A presence, more warm and fierce than he’d ever known, brushed against his own, and he welcomed it, seizing on its infantile embers and pulling it against him.

“Shiro?” the teacher called, but he barely heard her, dosed in the sacrificial flames of the new being.

Less than a moment later, he took off in a full sprint toward their home on the edge of town, ignoring the teacher’s shouts for him to return for class.  

The trip took him less time than it normally did as he forewent the usual dirt roads to cut across the ranches, but before he could explode into the desert shack, his father caught him by the back of his shirt on the front porch.

“Now, your mother is going to be awfully tired, son, and your new brother – well, he’s different from you. He definitely takes after your mother.”

“Can I see him? Can I, Dad?  _Pluh-leeze!_ ” The newborn’s essence inflamed Shiro’s gut, threatening to burn him from the inside out.

Ryou hummed for a moment before nodding. “I don’t see why not, but we’ll have to be quiet about it.”

Despite their light steps, the aging floorboards still creaked as they entered the shack, and Moira’s head immediately lifted from the couch where she lay, a small bundle swaddled in ragged towels and blankets tucked neatly in her arms. Her amber eyes glistened when she noticed Shiro, an encouraging and tender smile blessing her tired features, and as Shiro approached, he tried to suppress the giddiness that sent trembles up his spine.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Takashi?” Moira offered, and Ryou responded instantly, swiping a chair from the kitchen table to place it near the couch. Once Shiro took a seat, Moira lifted the bundle toward him while offering gentle instructions. “Now support his head – yes, that’s it. Make sure to keep him close. Good cub.”

Shiro blinked as he gathered the tiny being into his arms and rested its head upon his elbow.

“Takashi, meet your new baby brother, Keith.”

But it wasn’t a baby. It was a  _cat,_  just like Moira.

Moira quickly corrected his father. “Young kin are called ‘cubs’ by the Galra, Ryou.”

“Well, we’re not in the empire, hon,” Ryou snorted as he came to sit on the couch’s arm, hand resting upon Moira’s shoulder, “and on Earth, we call our kids ‘babies.’”

Moira sighed, teasing claws bringing Ryou close for a kiss. “Hm. You call your young goats ‘babies’? Intriguing.”

“That’s not what I meant, darling. And you know it.”

“Do I now?”

As their blather continued, Shiro’s rapt attention remained stolen by the tiny being in his arms whose face scrunched and then stretched with an angelic yawn. Those amber eyes glowed, brilliant and lively, truly spectacular in every way, and the tiny clawed hands caught on the swaddling cloths, tugging free a few strands. A patch of black hair dusted the top his head, and Shiro reached out with one finger to brush the velvet fur across the cub’s cheek. He was  _so_  soft.

As the cub blinked, taking in Shiro’s features with wonderment and confusion, a tiny purple string wrapped about his pinky and squeezed with budding strength.

No, not a string. A tail. His little brother had a tail!

“Keith, huh?” he whispered, a quiet smile enveloping his features. “More like  _Kitty_.”  

But he was perfect in every way, and Shiro dipped his head down to rub his nose against the top of his brother’s head. The cub’s eyes shifted, then its tiny snout twitched up toward Shiro’s pocket. After a moment, realization dawned.

“Ooh, you smell that, huh?” With one hand holding the cub, Shiro reached into his pocket with the other and pulled out the large red fish candy. “You want to try one?”

Those amber eyes stayed glued to those candies until he held one between his small fingers and gummed the fins.

* * *

Shiro couldn’t help himself. At exactly 12:03 Earth Standard Time, he palmed his way into his little brother’s room and hurried over to his bed. Crouching low, he brushed his fingerpads along the tips of Keith’s ears, causing them to twitch. Keith grumbled as sleep slipped from him and then blinked through half-lidded eyes.

“Takashi, what time is it?”

“Who cares about the time?” Shiro scolded. He continued to play with Keith’s ears. “Do you know what  _day_  it is?”

Keith’s ears went flat against his head. “You did  _not_ wake me up in the middle of the night  _again_  to tell me it’s my – ”

“It’s your birthday,” Shiro beamed, throwing up a handful of confetti. It rained down upon them, twinkling even in the low light, and Keith’s claws extended like he was ready to gouge out Shiro’s eyes. But like every year, Shiro ignored him. “Happy birthday,  _Kitty_.”

Keith growled, teeth bared, but promptly froze when his tiny nose twitched. Two sniffs, and he lowered his snout toward Shiro’s hand, which held a clear bag of red candies.

“I found this about two cycles ago.” Shiro smiled. “Thought they could be your first present.”

Keith immediately sat up, wide awake, tail thumping wildly. “How did you – when did you – You haven’t been able to find these since I was like – ”

“ – seven.”

It had been Keith’s first birthday without either of their parents.

Shiro hit Keith on the tail, urging his little brother to roll over, and Keith complied. They ended up sitting shoulder to shoulder, backs against the head panel of Keith’s bed, munching on the candy. It drowned them in the memories of their youth – first on Earth and then in Drule Central, alone with only themselves to rely upon. As the sugary taste of the candy fought off the bittersweet memories of the past, Keith’s tail wrapped about Shiro’s wrist, warming his very being, and Shiro petted the tip with gentle strokes.

He was right all those years ago.  

His baby brother was perfect in every way. 

~~Two minutes later, Keith coughed up a hairball, and Shiro changed his mind.~~


	2. Owned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The meet cute.

**[radishcakeholes](http://radishcakeholes.tumblr.com/)**  asked:How about a lil Shendak from your Blade!Shiro? Your choice of making it extra angsty or extra fluffy :yyyy

* * *

The bar’s strobe lights shimmered over the packed dance floor, illuminating the throngs of intoxicated dancers. Only a few caught Sendak’s eye from his position at the bar, and though he easily found Throk in the middle of the pack, the lieutenant’s arms about a petite lesser lifeform, Sendak had yet to find anyone who piqued his interest.

Until he came across the human.

He remembered the classification from one of Haxus’s reports. A scout ship made its way to the being’s native system a few decafeebs ago, though the empire had yet to conquer the planet. Earth. That was what Haxus called it, but it wasn’t anything special other than rich in quintessence. And transporting all of that power to Drule Central would have been a logistical nightmare, so the empire left the system alone for the time being.

Weak, vulnerable, malleable – the planet’s occupants wouldn’t have survived in the Galra Empire. Their skin was soft and tender, easily marked and maimed, and they weren’t intellectually stellar, either. But perhaps they could be used for one purpose, Sendak mused as he surveyed the young human. Pleasant to the eye with attractive facial features and a tight, round bottom, the human continued to steal Sendak’s attention, even with his pedestrian clothes. A sharp contrast to the other occupants’ attire, the denim fabric on his lower body and his cut-off shirt upon his torso, made the human appear out of his element, a lower lifeform reaching for the position he could never attain.

Mate. Officer. Documented citizen.

Somehow, Sendak found that innocent wanting all the more appealing.

When the human pressed against a larger lifeform’s front, his smile was nervous and forced. Hm. So the human wasn’t pleased with his match, but then again, neither would Sendak have been with a Tasseled Wobbegong, its towering height and six arms more of a challenge than a thrill.

Wait. This one had seven arms.  

Sendak set down his empty beer and pushed to his feet. He wasn’t one to play “hero.” That wouldn’t be fitting for a commander of the Galra Empire, but he could definitely play furious owner for the night.

But as Sendak’s arms wrapped around the smaller being from behind and those charcoal eyes flashed up at him, glistening with wonder and uncertainty, Sendak realized he’d misjudged the situation completely.

He was the one who was owned.


	3. New Scent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Keith meets Ulaz for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Keith was more or less delirious during the first story of the Blade!Shiro series, my thought is that when Ulaz knocks out Shiro, Keith has no idea. Ulaz can easily lift Keith into his arms and bring him to the Thaldycon base. Hence - this story. 

When Keith woke, he found himself warm and comfortable, the glow of a good night’s sleep still buzzing in the back of his mind. His muscles felt stiff and unused, like he’d slept without moving for days, and when he shifted, a soft, plush object cradled his head and urged him to return to that greedy slumber.

But – But Takashi’s jacket was never soft. In fact, Keith couldn’t remember ever touching something that pliable. His eyes shot open. He sniffed, illness still gripping his body, but as he pushed the heavy object off his back – Takashi’s dead-weight arm – to sit up and see their surroundings, he gasped. The room was by far one of the largest Keith had ever been in, with a desk and a closet, and a door that probably led to an adjoining bathroom. He currently occupied the bed alcove with Takashi, and Keith glanced at his brother, shocked that he hadn’t awoken yet. Takashi always awoke first.

“Takashi,” Keith murmured, leaning close to his brother’s face. Features lax, eyes closed, Takashi had never looked so peaceful, but something was wrong. Keith bent down, first sniffing his brother’s cheek – vanilla and…pine? – before pressing his head against Takashi’s jaw and rubbing his own scent upon his brother’s cheek.

“Takashi?” he asked again, more urgent. Why wasn’t he awake? “Takashi?”

The door swooshed open, and in strode a Galra warrior Keith didn’t remember seeing before. He certainly wasn’t as tall or broad as the warrior Takashi spent time with, but his scent – that was what Takashi now smelled like. Keith immediately tensed, claws digging into Takashi’s shirt. He hissed – why had this Galra put his scent on  _his_  brother? – but then the Galra fell to one knee before the bed, his facial features softening and growing fond.

“Ah, hello, young one. Welcome to the Blade of Marmora Communication Base Thaldycon.” When the Galra pulled off his glove and held out a hand, more specifically, his claws, Keith hesitantly bent to sniff them. Hm. He didn’t smell of danger or fear. “Your brother has a bit more time to recover. I ran a few scans upon him and felt it necessary to address a set of wounds and some diseases he had been carrying. But not to worry. The medicine will wear off soon, as it has on you.”

Diseases? And wounds? What was this Galra talking about?

The Galra ducked his head, making sure it was below Keith’s, and offered his large hand again. “I am Ulaz. Why don’t we let your brother sleep a bit more before we wake him? I’m sure you must be hungry or at least thirsty.

He shouldn’t go with this Galra. Even if he seemed friendly, Takashi told him not to go with strangers, especially Galra soldiers.

“You are… _Keith_ ,  correct?” Ulaz offered, and Keith immediately perked up. “And your brother is Shiro or…does he prefer Takashi?”

Keith’s tail immediately stilled. “You – You know us?”

“I know much about you, Paladin. You are destined for great things – but first, breakfast. Come and tell me where you and your brother have been hiding these past few years.”

He shouldn’t, but this Galra knew his name. And if Keith squinted, he thought Ulaz looked a bit like the faded memory he held of his mom.


	4. Space Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith learns about scent marking from Thace and what that says about his new family.

**[eastofthemoon](http://eastofthemoon.tumblr.com/)**  asked:

From your Blade!Shiro series, how about cub Keith and Thace having a bonding moment?

 

* * *

A blend of lavender and pine with a hint of vanilla – the scent crept up upon Keith slowly, first as a linger accent to his own rich aroma of desert willow and sage, then billowing stronger as the weeks progressed. It settled under his skin and clung to his clothes, and when he pressed his face against Takashi’s shoulder to mark his brother, it attached to him as well.

But Takashi was out on mission, and he wouldn’t understand anyway. He barely smelled Keith’s scent as it was, so Keith went to the next closest person to him.

As soon as the question fled his mouth, Thace’s eyes glistened, and a tender smile brightened his features. “Oh, cub. That’s usual for those in a pack.”

“Pack?” Keith echoed, head cocked to the side.

Thace nodded, sharp nails ruffling the edge of Keith’s tail in a soothing ritual. “Yes. A group of familiar Galra are known as a pack, and a new member is assimilated by blending scents. Kolivan, Ulaz, Antok, and I had begun to welcome your scent into our own, and by accepting ours as well, you have reciprocated the bond.”

“Oh.” Keith’s tail whipped behind him. “So…we’re like family now?”

Confusion swept through Thace’s gaze before he nodded. “I believe we were before, but now it’s more…formalized, I believe. If we must put words to it, but we generally greet members of our pack a different way.”

“Yeah? How?”

Thace bent then, welcoming Keith into the circle of his arms, and Keith giggled when Thace’s hair swept across his cheeks in a familiar ritual. “That tickles!”

Thace did it again and again, teasing more giggles from Keith, and when Keith wrapped his tail about Thace’s wrist to get him stop, he didn’t uncurl it once the Blade had.  


	5. Admission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Could you write a ficlet where we see Kolivan's thoughts for the newest Blade!Shiro story? When he learns about Sendak? When he realizes what it means Shiro did?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crackles knuckles and rests fingers upon the keyboard* Sure. I’ll twist the knife in Kolivan’s gut.
> 
> Takes place during [Scar Tissue - Chapter One.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10374765/chapters/25453242) 
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: NSFW - nothing graphic but mentions non-consensual marking

 

His cub. Sendak had marked, claimed, defiled  _his_ cub, and Kolivan’s claws instinctively closed upon Shiro’s shoulders.

The Blades had taken Shiro in when he was eighteen, barely old enough to be claimed, and Sendak already marked him as his mate, his property, his possession.

Dread immediately settled in Kolivan’s gut, heavy and cold, and Shiro’s eyes remained blown wide and shimmering underneath his hood.

So innocent. So trusting. So haunted.

Sendak had taken advantage of Shiro. He must have to have mated the cub already, and yet Shiro was willing to go back to the commander, to that abhorrent position - for the Blade.

For Kolivan.

A furious rage tore through him, dipping his claws even deeper into Shiro’s shoulders, and when Shiro winced, Kolivan snapped.

This – right here. This is why we do not allow lower lifeforms in the Blade of Marmora!”

Kolivan cursed himself with every word he spoke, as an alarmed, horrified expression enveloped Shiro’s face. The cub fled the Hilt, fresh tears shimmering in those crestfallen eyes, and Kolivan tore into the nearest console, claws digging into the metal and sheering it until nothing but a smoldering pile remained.

When Ulaz approached him, his mask dissolved, and neither his stride nor tone reflected restraint.

“If he does not know what the mark means - ”

“ - then Sendak never gave him a choice,” Kolivan growled, shoulders heaving with every haggard breath, claws trembling in fists once more. “That mark is non-consensual.”

_Ancients_ , did Sendak -

“The mating was consensual and agreed upon by all parties,” Thace explained, mask dissolving as well.

“How do you know?” Antok grated, an ominous tone to his voice.

Kolivan braced himself for the inevitable.

“Shiro helped distract Sendak during one of my missions. He also extracted the data for me.”

“Distract how?”

Thace told him; Kolivan lunged. Antok and Ulaz intercepted him and barely kept the leader from stabbing Thace.

“You allowed him to use his body to save your incompetent, pitiful - ”

“That is in the past,” Ulaz interjected, finally freeing Kolivan’s dagger from his hand with a grunt. “Shiro has been with us for three annuals now, safe and sheltered, and he only seeks one thing.”

Kolivan winced, anticipating Ulaz’s next words.

“Your approval, which he does not believe he has now.”

With a drawled breath, Kolivan collected himself as best he could, though all he could see was the young cub standing in the corridor of the Thaldycon base, frightened but brave, willing to give up everything to save his brother.

Including his body.

Kolivan swallowed down the bile that rose in his throat as his eyes slid shut.

“Find him. Now.”

He would make this right.


	6. The Emperor and the Blade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kolivan has a secret...and a mating mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt hit a plot point I had struggled with for some time when drafting this series. Kolivan had a mating mark, and before this, I didn't address it because it wasn't essential to the overall plot. But this prompt was an awesome idea, and I just ran with it. Hope you enjoy.

  **[xblackpaladin](https://xblackpaladin.tumblr.com/)**  asked: Can you do a zalivan (zarkon/kolivan) ficlet? something angsty probably? XD TYSM!

* * *

There was no mistaking the similarities between his and Shiro’s predicaments, and perhaps that fueled Kolivan’s extreme response after learning what Sendak had done to the cub.

_His_  cub.

It was one thing to endure trauma at the hands of a mate, to suffer quietly and solemnly, but it was another to see a member of your own pack hurt and not be able to prevent it, to know someone you loved suffered the same fate.

Kolivan didn’t need to stare into a mirror to see his mating mark. Even after all these years, he could feel the sharp claw slicing through his skin and over his right eye, so quickly and precisely that pain only followed the act. His hands trembled at his thighs in tight fists and he squeezed shut his eyes, though the painful memory played nonetheless, accompanied by Zarkon’s tender smile.

Before the war and the death and destruction that followed, they had been  _happy_. Of course, Kolivan rebelled against the arranged mating between the king and his pack, but the ritual kept peace on Galra for more than five millennia. And Zarkon was a benevolent ruler, working with Kolivan’s pack in order to ensure that peace. The king was attentive and patient, never forcing Kolivan into acts against his own desires. Zarkon, the ruler of Daibazaal,  _courted_  Kolivan when he didn’t have to, and when dinners and presents failed to win Kolivan’s favor, Zarkon took to learning the traditional blade rituals of the Marmora.

Late-night sparring sessions led to quiet conversations in the gardens, on the king’s personal battle cruiser, and in his bedchamber. Soothing nuzzles and gentle caresses became desperate embraces and fierce reclamations. Kolivan would never be a silent partner, and Zarkon never wanted one. And one day, after they came to that understanding, Kolivan presented his face to Zarkon to mark. As the blood trickled down Kolivan’s face, Zarkon bore his pristine skin to mark, too.

Perhaps Kolivan had no fonder memories than lying in Zarkon’s arms, head resting upon his king’s chest, Zarkon’s claws drawing aimless circles upon his bare back. Exhaustive nights and lazy mornings, accented with Zarkon’s tender murmurs atop Kolivan’s head, brought a smile to Kolivan’s face to this day.  

“Thank you, my love, for choosing me,” Zarkon rumbled, and Kolivan rested his chin upon Zarkon’s sculpted chest.

“Hm. I believe it was fate, my  _liege_ ,” he added, a title as much as a term of endearment, “but you are welcome all the same.”

Zarkon smiled and stole a kiss once more.

But then the lions came, ushering in the Great War, and Kolivan fought alongside his mate, not as a paladin but as Blade, leading his own pack at the king’s command. 

They lost, and from their planet’s ashes rose the Galra Empire.

Kolivan fought to return to Zarkon, to tell his mate he hadn’t been lost in the destruction, but when Haggar and the Druids, whom he never trusted, refused to allow him onto the bridge of Zarkon’s ship, he feared the worst.

After several quintents, he managed to reach Zarkon’s side again, gripping his mate by the arms and fitting their bodies together like they always had. But his insides turned cold and his lips numb at the lackluster embrace he received in return.

It was far worse than he ever thought possible.

When their planet died, so did their king, and an emperor took his place.

“You cannot be serious,” Kolivan breathed. “Destroy Altea? They are our closest ally.”

“We have no more allies, Kolivan,” Zarkon hissed, condemning in a way it never had been. “Our planet has been destroyed and with it any semblance of the peace we once maintained.”

“What will more destruction prove? It won’t bring back at our people.”

“You will stand by me, my love.” The warmth of Zarkon’s voice was gone, replaced by a cold command. “Are there any left of the Blade?”

“No, my  _liege_.” Zarkon’s lack of acknowledgement hurt far worse than Kolivan thought possible. “I am the last of my pack.”

“He lies,” Haggar announced, entering the bridge behind Kolivan, flanked by two Druids. “More escaped the destruction. He’s trying to usurp your rule.”

Zarkon struck with his bayard before Kolivan could react, slamming him to the floor. Blood flowed freely down his face, sliding over his scarred eye, as he struggled to his feet. Zarkon towered over him; in those eyes where he found love and trust, Kolivan now only saw hatred and madness.

“You dare to betray me? My own  _mate_?”

“And you  _are_  mine,” Kolivan challenged, sorrow lacing his words. Forever. The proof was carved into their skin. “But the king I loved no longer exists.”

“Yes, he would have spared your life. I will not.”

Kolivan fought, his heart tearing with each hit, tears coursing his face and mixing with the crimson as he wielded his blade. He brought it down upon Zarkon’s hand, freeing the bayard, but Haggar attacked before he could grab it. He barely managed to activate his mask and dive into the open space below the bridge to sneak onto one of the Galra transports.

Distraught beyond consolation, Kolivan went to Alfor, whom he still considered a friend, and the Altean ruler took pity on Kolivan, freezing him in cryogentic sleep.

Ten thousand years. A conquered universe, he could have helped prevent, but every time Kolivan saw the emperor, crippling pain seized his chest and bitter disappointment stole his breath. 

So when Kolivan looked at the marked Shiro, who shared love with the enemy, he only thought of his former love, and the life that once was and the happy ending that could never be.    


	7. Out of the Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith feel a new presence awaken in their souls - the Blue Paladin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt prompt Chris_White - "My ask is a little klance first meeting. Maybe in this universe with Keith (and Lance) still as a kid? Though of course it might require some bending unless Lance is a little Altean kid that for some reason they’re forced to bring to base where Keith is. :) Obviously I mean kid-level klance, like confused blushing or something."
> 
> *rubs hands together* Let’s do it!
> 
>  **Warning:** Fluff and Angst - Terrible, Terrible Angst  
> 
> (And Shiro found his way into this. Sorry…)

 

Shiro woke from a sound sleep, gasping and sputtering like he’d just broken the surface of the ocean. Keith flung himself onto his bed less than a moment later, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, tail shuttering, hands slapped over his ears.

“He’s crying,” he muttered, pressing his tearstained face into Shiro’s chest. “He’s crying, and he won’t stop.”

“It’s okay, kiddo,” Shiro promised, soothing hand carding through his little brother’s locks. “We’ll find him.”

They did. After seeking out Kolivan and Antok, Shiro led them to a water-based planet in the Faraway Systems, a place barely touched by Galra influence. A tiny escape pod, a cyro-tube, and a trembling boy with blue markings under his eyes and pointed ears huddled in the corner of the cave. He was dressed in the blue and golden cloak of royal attire and held a tiny glowing staff, pointing it at Shiro like it offered death.

Shiro didn’t take a chance.

He motioned for Antok and Kolivan to stay back, bent down on one knee, and hit off his mask.

“Hey, there, buddy,” Shiro greeted, much to the little boy’s fascination. “What are you doing out here all alone, huh? How would you like a little company?”

With tears drying upon his puffy cheeks, the boy cocked his head to the side and muttered, “What’s wrong with your ears?”

Shiro instinctively touched them. “My ears?”

“They’re ugly. Why are they shaped like that?”

Well, that stung.

Shiro eventually managed to coax the boy to his side and into the spacecraft, though Kolivan and Antok didn’t drop their masks during the trip back. 

“He’s Altean,” the leader explained in a whispered confession. “Zarkon destroyed his planet ten thousand years ago. It would only bring him more pain and fear for us to reveal our origins.”

Shiro could tell there was more to that story but let the matter slide with Lance tugging on his pants for food and attention. No matter how cautious Kolivan and Antok were, however, the boy caught the sight of quite a few Galra once they returned to the headquarters and immediately ducked behind Shiro’s legs.

“You’re allied with the Galra?” he asked in a frightened whispered and reached for his staff, hidden under his cloak.  

Shiro rested a hand upon the boy’s head and ruffled his soft locks. “Yes but not the Galra you’re familiar with. We’re fighting against the empire.”

When Antok returned to the Hilt with food, Kolivan managed to lure Shiro a few feet away. “Prince Lance cannot stay here. Having three paladins in one place before Voltron is awaken – the quintessence alone will draw Zarkon and his witch.”

Shiro arched an eyebrow. “Do I want to know how you know the kid’s name? He hasn’t told us yet.”

Kolivan froze, though Shiro couldn’t see the leader’s expression behind his mask. “It is probably best you do not.”

“Wonderful.”

As they spoke, Lance huddled in a corner of the Hilt, back against the wall, watching the conversation with half-lidded, haunted eyes. He managed to swallow a few spoonfuls of the food goo – it lacked the tasty, sweet flavor of sustenance on his father’s ship – when twin golden eyes popped up from behind one of the room’s consoles. Dual ears twitched; a tail whipped behind them. Then, the being crouched down low, slinking around the side of the console to hide from the three older warriors.

Lance immediately tensed, bringing his staff to bear again, only for the Galra’s tail to wrap about it.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Lance snarled, to which the Galra hissed. “You have funky ears.” Two sniffs. “And you smell weird.”

Lance tugged at his weapon but couldn’t reclaim it. “ _Your_ ears are freakishly big. What’s up with that?”

“Yeah, well, at least I don’t smell like a rotting thronhoser.”

“But you have all that – ” Lance reached out to brush his fingers across Keith’s tail and gasped. “ – really, really soft fur!”

Keith recoiled, eyes twitching. “Huh?”

“Ancients! You’re so fluffy!”

Before Keith could react, Lance dropped his staff and pounced. The tiny Galra attempted to spin away, but Lance’s clingy grip proved too much, his arms wrapping around Keith in an awkward embrace from behind. Lance rubbed his cheek against Keith’s, muttering about his fuzzy feel and warmth, while Keith lifted a trembling hand toward his infuriatingly amused brother.

“Takashi… _Takashi_ , help!”

Shiro came to his brother’s aid, kneeling in front of the embracing duo to brush his knuckle across Keith’s hand and ruffle Lance’s hair again.

“Well, he’s not wrong, kiddo. You are super fluffy, but y’know, I think Prince Lance might need to learn just how strong your tail really is.”

Keith’s lips parted in a mischievous little smirk before his tail curled about Lance’s ankle and tugged, sending the Altean prince to the floor. Keith pounced this time, pinning Lance almost instantly, before rubbing his cheek along Lance’s jaw and shoulder in a pack greeting.

“I may be fluffy, but you’re really smooth!”

“At least I don’t have a mullet, Mullet!”

Keith blinked and leaned back, blinking down at Lance. “What’s a mullet?”

Lance shrugged. “Y’know, longer hair in the back, shorter hair in the – whatever! My hair’s better!” And he dragged Keith into a tumbling match again.

Eventually, they tired of wrestling and ate, munching alongside Antok, before engaging in an exciting game of Hide and Hunt. They ended up hiding from Shiro in the same place – a closet on the training deck – and he found them passed out on the matts. He carried them back to his room, a precious head upon each shoulder.

Days passed; Lance trained side-by-side with Keith. And Shiro thoroughly enjoyed watching his little brother get a run for his money in combat. Lance proved to a worthy adversary, going toe-to-toe with Keith, and while none of the Blades went “easy” on Keith, they certainly never handed him his ass like Lance managed to.

Lance even managed to render Shiro speechless when Shiro entered his quarters to find a purple Lance, whose skin reflected the color of Keith’s fur, before shifting again. He lost his blue facial accents and pointed ears to look entirely human.

“What do you think, Shee-ro? Think I’d make a good human?”

No. Lance would be an amazing  _Blue Paladin_  one day, if the various pipes that suddenly burst after he walked by – were any indication.

But Shiro knew it was too good to be true. Only a few short months after Lance came to live with them, Zarkon’s command ship entered the same system the Blade of Marmora’s headquarters occupied.  

Shiro sat cross-legged on the floor before his bed, keeping silent vigil over the napping twins when Kolivan entered. He never glanced away from the tiny beings who lay wrapped in each other’s arms, Keith’s tail curled possessively about Lance’s waist, Lance’s pointy ear resting upon Keith’s chest.

“Can’t we keep him?” Shiro murmured in a broken plea.    

“I’m sorry, Shiro,” Kolivan replied, sympathy lacing his words. His strong hand upon Shiro’s shoulder failed to provide adequate comfort.

“But he’s – Kolivan, he’s a piece of my soul.” Shiro finally tore his gaze away from the precious sight to beseech the leader, a hand clutching his shirt over his heart. “I feel him – right here, just like I feel Keith. I can’t – I – I can’t lose him.”

Though Kolivan made sure to always have his mask activated in Lance’s presence, he now let it dissolve to show Shiro the depth of his remorse. “I know what it is like to lose a piece of yourself, but it will only be temporary. You will need to meet again to form Voltron. Until then, I must keep you all safe, and Zarkon and Haggar proved today that none of you are if his highness remains here.”

“How? We can’t just eject him into space.” Shiro grew dark and tired, eyes averting as he muttered, “Unless…he’s a little kid, Kolivan. Maybe it would be better if I – ”

Kolivan’s hand squeezed. “That is not even a discussion. You are pack. You must stay here, but the prince – he has shapeshifted to look like you before, correct? And your homeworld has yet to be invaded by the Galra. Perhaps we may find a safe haven for him there.”

Shiro’s fists shook on his knees as he struggled to find an alternative solution – something,  _anything_  that would prevent Shiro from losing Lance. He’d come to love the boy as a second brother, and in their short time together, Keith and Lance had become attached at the hip – or the tail, as it were. How could he separate them now?

But they were at risk if Lance stayed, and despite hating himself for it, Shiro accepted that Lance would be safer on Earth than he would be with the Blades. 

Taking a bracing breath, Shiro fought the sudden nausea threatening to overwhelm him. “I – There was a family. The McClains. They used to come and see my dad – and – and Mom, I think. Mrs. McClain, she had worked with my dad in the garrison before both left. I think – I think she might be willing to take Lance in.”

“Good. Then we will hope for the best tonight and set a course for Earth tomorrow.” Kolivan patted Shiro’s head this time and offered a consoling, “Perhaps we can even try that Pop-Tart you spoke about.”

Shiro lamented Earth every day, and he longed to see it again. But not like this. Not to drop off a piece of his very being, knowing the tears that would ensue, from Lance and Keith, and himself.

Shiro had a pack. He had a family, and he had a pride. And one day, Shiro resolved, he’d find them all and never let any of them go.

For now, Shiro had the rest of the day with his two little brothers, so he climbed into the bed, tucked them under his arms, and listened to steady rhythm of their breathing.

“Love you, Shee-ro,” Lance muttered, nuzzling close to his heart, while Keith wrapped his tail about Shiro’s wrist instinctively.

Shiro somehow managed to keep the tears from his voice as he replied, “Love you, kiddo. Never forget that, okay?”

“Uh-huh. ‘kay.”

Shiro kissed the top of the prince’s hair, nuzzled Keith’s soft mane, and then hummed until the two once more fell asleep.

He wouldn’t follow until two days later as he held sniffling Keith in his lap, leaving Earth and Lance behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quasi-squeal will be posted here eventually, but you can find it currently on Tumblr [here](https://ptw30.tumblr.com/post/166694086879/ficlet-adoption-part-two).


	8. The Mission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kolivan's thoughts during ["Crossing the Border."](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10374765/chapters/26685456)
> 
> A/N: I love writing protective!Kolivan. It's one of my favorite things.

**[thepheonixqueen](http://thepheonixqueen.tumblr.com/)**  asked: For Blade!Shiro AU, what was going through Kolivan's mind when he had to watch Shiro being led away to quarantine in the two-part fic you wrote? Would consider writing a side ficlet of it, because I love protective papa!Kolivan. Or possibly of him rescuing Shiro from quarantine and seeing him about to get the tracker injected?

* * *

“We will inject the implant into your property and return it to you in a varga,” the sentry informed in a stoic, emotionless voice. “You may pick it up in the quarantine release sector on the fourth floor.”

Kolivan received the paperwork but immediately discarded it, making his way to the nearest restroom. He messaged Antok to let him know the situation had changed and that subterfuge was no longer an option. They’d have to contact Thace later to procure the recordings and delete any evidence of the Blades’ activities, for they couldn’t wait to devise a better strategy. Time was not on their side.

Kolivan forced his claws firm and took strength in the weight of the extra blade he tucked in his thigh hilt. Now dressed in his Blade uniform, he left the room and sunk from shadow to shadow through the custom control area, eventually meeting up with Antok. Then, they took out the sentry guarding the entrance to the quarantine area and rushed inside.  

With Kolivan in the lead, they forced their way through the halls, ignoring the cameras and attacking any guard who challenged them. Loud breaths pounded Kolivan’s ears; blood pumped through his body, helping to curb the panic that threaten to rise within him.

Shiro’s earlier words echoed in his mind, and Kolivan tried – and failed – to drown them out.

_“Kolivan, I-I know the answer to this, but I need to hear you say it.”_

_“Hear what, Shiro?”_

_The cub hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. “If something happens to me, would you look after Keith?”_

_Kolivan’s eyebrows lifted, only to scrunch together a moment later in deep concern. “Nothing will happen to you. I will not allow it.”_

_“You can’t promise that.”_

_The apprehension in Shiro’s gaze wounded Kolivan. Their lives depended upon trust – of each other, of their pack – and every day presented a new challenge to overcome to simply exist. Shiro, especially, fought to survive in the empire as a “lesser lifeform,” but it never occurred to Kolivan that the cub worried so much about his life and what would happen to Keith in the event that he lost the battle for it._

_Kolivan should have soothed Shiro’s fears about Keith’s well-being, but he needed to address something else first._

_He leaned down, swiping his jaw across Shiro’s. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”_

_Shiro’s eyes narrowed. “Kolivan, please. Listen to me. I need you to promise me - “_

_“As long as you are with me, Takashi, I will never let anything happen to you.”_

Kolivan tore through the tiny quarantine cell and slammed the doctor against the wall before pivoting and kicking the sentry unconscious. Then he cradled Shiro’s smaller form against his own, taking in the cub’s liquid eyes and relieved expression. He gave into his own primal urges and ducked his head to greet Shiro’s properly.

“Never again,” he promised himself as much as Shiro. Never again he would allow his personal mission to come so close to failure.


	9. Separation Anxiety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is sick and has a heart-wrenching request for Antok.

**[geeky-thingie](http://geeky-thingie.tumblr.com/)**  asked: I can see dads of Mamora taking care if a sick Shiro in your blade AU, I feel like that would be a nice soft prompt. 

* * *

Antok noticed when Shiro stepped out of the back of a pod. The human lost his balance at the last possible second, and if not for Antok’s swift reflexes, Shiro would have fallen face-first to the hanger floor.

“Thanks,” Shiro croaked with a tired smile, and then Antok saw the dark circles under the younger Blade’s eyes. “Must have been a tougher battle than I thought.”

Only it wasn’t. A few sentries, a data breach, and the shutdown of a non-essential Galra base. So routine was the mission that Kolivan hadn’t even seen a need to go. Why would Shiro be weak after such an light exercise?

Antok made sure to keep an eye on the cub, and over the next day or two, he watched Shiro attempt to stifle sneezes and cover coughs. By the third night, Kolivan noticed and sent Shiro, shoulders slumped and head hanging, back to his room. Antok followed even without seeing Kolivan’s worried gaze and never left Shiro’s room, listening to the cub’s groans and sniffles. He continuously brushed back Shiro’s bangs and handed him tissue box after tissue box.

On the fourth night, Kolivan sent for Ulaz who rushed back to the base within a few vargas. While the Blade employed physicians and scientists, the leader only trusted Ulaz when it came to his pack.  

“A virus, influenza, it seems,” Ulaz diagnosed, writing notes on his datapad. “I can give him some medicine to soothe the symptoms, but his body just needs to fight it.”

Ulaz stayed as long as he could, checking Shiro’s temperature and clicking his tongue when it kept rising. Eventually, he sighed and stood, a look of utter dismay enveloping his features.

“If it reaches 104, let me know. I’ll return.”

Even if it meant losing his post in the Galra Empire.

The responsibility of Shiro’s care fell to Antok with Kolivan coordinating the Blade, though the leader stopped in once every few hours to check Shiro’s progress himself. The Blades decided to keep Keith out of the brothers’ shared chambers, uncertain if Shiro’s virus was contagious to Keith’s human cells, and Thace managed to return from his assignment to comfort the younger cub.

Shiro coughed and sniffled, and Antok’s warmth and sizable bulk created the perfect pillow for Shiro to snuggle. It was at the height of Shiro’s fever, the cub unable to breathe or sleep, back pressed flat against Antok’s buff chest, that he began to speak. His head tipped back, mouth open to suck in wet wheezes, eyes narrowed slits, Shiro struggled to mutter,  _“D-Don’t go…okay?”_

Antok’s heart ached; he rested his chin upon the top of Shiro’s mussed hair. “I am here, cub.”

_“N-Now, yeah. But e-everyone leaves us,”_  he murmured, balmy cheek shifting to rest upon Antok’s front. “ _My mother left me with my dad. Mom left me and Keith with our dad. Dad left and never came back. Everyone leaves us eventually. …_ don’t _, okay?”_

Antok’s arms came to cradle Shiro’s dwarfed form from behind, large fingers clasping gently but firmly upon Shiro’s stomach. “I am here, cub. So is Thace and Kolivan. Ulaz, too, though not physically. You are not alone.”

_“Now, but…”_

_But not forever._

It was a promise Antok could not vow. The Blades constantly put their lives on the line for each other and the universe, and on any mission – at any tick – their whole pack could be wiped out. There was no security or reassurance Antok could give – other than this.

“I will never willingly leave you, Shiro. And even if I can’t stay, I will always be with you. Ulaz, Thace, and Kolivan, too. Pack bonds are not physical. They never have been.”

They were emotional, spiritual, unbreakable.

Shiro seemed to take consolation in that, relaxing into the cleft of Antok’s chest, and then the older brother ducked his head to rest it against Shiro’s cheek, jaw tucked in the crux between the human’s shoulder and neck.

“Now…if you would only promise the same…”

But by then, Shiro was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So…as I do so much with this series, I’m apologizing once again. “Nice soft prompt,” you asked. My muse ate that up and spat out angst. …I’m sorry.


	10. AU -  The Commander's Human Mate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if Shiro stayed with Sendak instead of leaving and joining the Blade?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the next story in this collection takes place after "Broken Blade," I figured I'd start posting the AU prompt-fills now. I'll probably end up rearranging the AU chapters to be in the back of the collection, but for now - here's some fun "what if" stories.

**[thepheonixqueen](http://thepheonixqueen.tumblr.com/)**  asked: What would Shiro's life have been like if he had stayed with Sendak? What would have happened to Keith?

Let’s find out!

* * *

 

Shiro probably would first live in an apartment in Drule Central like a kept mate but eventually move into Sendak’s penthouse to fulfill his role as the commander’s partner. As promised, Sendak sends Keith to a good school, but it’s a boarding school, of course. All Galra schools are. (Can’t have cubs forming stronger bonds with their parents than the empire.)

Keith comes to see Shiro here and there, and begs Shiro to stay. Uncurling Keith’s tail from whatever appendage the cub clutches and pushing him toward the door, Shiro refuses every time, and it kills him inside. But it’s better for Keith to live as a full-blooded Galra. After all, Keith is Galra. This is his culture, and he should embrace it. Keith eventually stops visiting when he gets into his tween years and is shipped off to the far reaches of space on a battleship for higher education.  

Shiro stays with Sendak, attending Galra formal gatherings as needed. He gets bored and doesn’t like the hungry looks Sendak’s colleagues send his way, so Sendak teaches him how to fight. (Shiro may have taken off a few body parts in his day – a finger, a hand, once a head – depending on how another commander approaches him, and since Sendak is the highest ranking Galra commander, Shiro is never punished. And let’s be honest – Sendak likes his mate to have metaphorical claws and teeth.)

At one gala, Sendak introduces Shiro to the heir apparent of the empire, Prince Lotor, who has brought a newly appointed captain under his command. The cub graduated top of his class from the empire’s top academy, and he’s the fleet’s best pilot.

Of course, it’s Keith.

Shiro curbs his shock as best he can – but look how much Keith has grown! The top of his head now reaches Shiro’s eye level. His face has smoothed and matured, and he now holds himself differently – back impeccably straight, hands tucked into the small of his back, face ruthlessly neutral.

Shiro lifts his slack jaw and presents a formal bow to the prince and his subordinate.

Keith says nothing and doesn’t acknowledge Shiro in any way, eyes cold and disdainful, and Shiro understands. It hurts, but he gets it. He wanted what was best for Keith, and now Keith is truly Galra. He has accepted his place in the empire as one of its strongest warriors and doesn’t want to be connected to a lower lifeform in any way, even if said person is a commander’s mate.  

Though Shiro dies all over again inside, knowing his adorable, cuddly little bundle of fluff is now a deadly war machine, Keith is alive and thriving.

Shiro did the right thing.  _He did._

…right?

Later, in their quarters, Sendak wraps his arms about Shiro from behind and tries to soothe his wounded mate. He fails, but Shiro loves him for trying. And he loves Sendak. He does. If anything, Sendak has been faithful and kind and understanding, and he’s made Shiro’s time in the Galra Empire bearable.

But nothing can ever heal him from the loss of his baby brother.

Sendak reluctantly leaves when called away – there was some sort of explosion in Drule Central at the emperor’s compound – and as the door shuts, a light breeze ruffles the back of Shiro’s hair. His stomach tingles with anticipation, and he glances over his shoulder to see a figure dressed in a black jumpsuit with glowing purple accents, standing in the balcony’s open sliding door. Over the newcomer’s shoulder shimmers the blade Keith’s mother left them, the one Shiro gave Keith before he went off to the academy.

After the mask fades away, it only takes a beat before they move, slam into each other, and slide to a ground in a heap of tangled limbs. They’re a mess – Keith sobbing into his chest, Shiro burying his wet face in Keith’s hood – and words aren’t necessary. They’ve missed each other terribly, and there, in that moment, Shiro knows the truth.

He’d made the wrong decision.

Shiro should never have accepted Sendak’s offer. Even if Keith had been given the best opportunities in the empire, any resolution that forced them to be separated is wrong.

When Keith’s tail wraps around Shiro’s waist, the older brother resolves never to remove it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I'm not saying Keith worked super hard at the academy to one day serve under a high-ranking commander and meet Sendak, who then, in turn, would lead him back to Shiro - but...yeah, that's what I'm saying happened.


	11. Birth-Quintaint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovely Prompt by NightWings: What if the blade did something to celebrate Shiro or Keith’s birthday? Since they probably never really had one since their parents left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll change the chapters around eventually, so all the AUs will be in the last posts. However, I forgot to add this to the masterpost, so I ended up missing it during posting. Thanks!

Every quart-feeb, Shiro came to Kolivan with a simple request, “May I have a pod and the 23rd off?”

As if he needed permission from his boss or his father, and that first year, Kolivan refused to place himself in that role for the cubs. Instead, he demanded without looking up from his datapad, “Explain.”

“I want to take Keith out to the swap meet. I figure we’ll wander around, taste some of the goodies, maybe get him a new toy or something.”

“Why?”

A shrug. “He’s been here since you brought us with Ulaz. I think he needs some fresh air.”

Kolivan glanced up, just long enough to catch Shiro’s eyes and subject his soul to harsh scrutiny. “You may go, but take Antok with you.”

“But maybe just – ”

“Dismissed.”

“Just the two of us,” Shiro demanded the following year. “I found a planet in the Faraway Systems. No Galra. No lifeforms. Just ice and some snow. I figured we’d ice skate, have a snowball fight, maybe make ice pops.”

“What are… _ice pops?”_  Kolivan asked, once he placed down his datapad on the Hilt’s console.

“They’re sugar water frozen into stick form.”

“And what would one do with it?”

Shiro blinked, head cocked to the side. “You…eat it. Well, lick it.”

Kolivan crossed his arms and waited for further explanation. After a moment, Shiro surrendered with an exasperated sigh. “Look, it’s a treat. It tastes sweet.”

“And you’re taking Keith for – ”

“For some fun. A quintaint off.”

“On the same quintaint you took off last year.”

“… _yeeeesss_ …?” he asked, hunching his shoulders.

Kolivan simply stared for a long moment, waiting for Shiro to crack and give a longer, more thorough explanation, but when the young Blade simply crossed his arms and waited, too, Kolivan relented.

“Fine, you may go. But take Antok.”

“I said – 

Kolivan picked up his datapad and began to type again, muttering absentmindedly, “You take Antok or I’ll put the pods on lockdown.”

“What is it with this quintaint?” Kolivan demanded the third year after Shiro came to him, the leader’s datapad long forgotten in his room. “You leave on this ‘October 23rd’ every year. You get what Antok describes to me as a ‘sugar rush,’ and you sing a song to Keith about a…a  _birthday_? What’s so special about this specific quintaint, Takashi?”

They were pack now. Familial anger was the norm, as was Shiro’s sheepish smile. “It’s – It’s the quintaint he was born, Kolivan. On Earth. And our culture likes to celebrate the quintaints our family and friends entered the world – uh, universe. There’re presents and usually a cake and activities. But Galra don’t seem to celebrate any holi… _quintaints?_  - let alone the quintaints they were born.” He paused for a moment before adding, “You  _are_ born, right? Or are Galra spawned?”

“Yes, we are  _born_.” Kolivan hit Shiro up the back of his head as he passed, moving into his personal quarters just off the Hilt. “Perhaps it has been dark far too long in the headquarters. The endless string of battles and missions didn’t seem to give us reasons to celebrate, especially with causalities and injuries, but we cannot turn our back on a whole portion of our culture.”

“And maybe because of the casualties you need to celebrate,” Shiro offered, and when Kolivan turned to him, the cub shrugged. “No one’s going to live forever. We need to appreciate every quintaint, y’know?”

Kolivan stared at the young cub, barely two decafeebs old, who suffered through a terrible battle less than a week prior. The battle had been brutal, bloody, and deadly, leaving less than half the attacking squad alive. Shiro almost hadn’t come back, refusing to leave Antok behind and dragging the larger Galra to a ship with a handful of Blades.

And then he’d gone back to check for more survivors, only to find none.

Yet here he stood, bright and smiling and forging ahead because there was no option, because as he sobbed in Kolivan’s arms a week ago, the leader told him to honor those they’d lost by fighting to not lose another. To not let the Galra Empire win by crushing his spirit. There’d be more fights. There would always be more fights, and Kolivan needed Shiro by his side for strength and guidance and light.

Kolivan needed Shiro’s blinding brilliance and unconditional affection.

Always.

Kolivan drew Shiro to his side, laying his arm along the human’s shoulders, and hit on his datapad. “Yes, I believe you are right.”

Kolivan felt the usual tension in his chest unfurl when he watched the pod land and the back door open. Keith gasped and smiled from pointy ear to pointy ear when he spotted the rest of his pack, plus the presents – including dual speeders – the sign, and the cake (red velvet, of course).

They sang as per Shiro’s instructions, and then the cubs took laps, racing the speedsters through the desert terrain. According to Shiro, who scouted the planet, the warm, arid climate reminded him of Earth, his homeworld, and the years Keith barely remembered but cherished just the same.

The quintaint was the most relaxing Kolivan could remember enjoying in quite some time, and the Blades all took in stride, dressed informally for the first time in decafeebs. Black cargo pants and boots. Tight vests or jackets, fingerless gloves, light undershirts. Antok, too, took off his mask to enjoy the warm temperature.  

They stayed the night, the shimmering stars above captivating and beautiful – as were the cubs tucked against Kolivan’s sides. They shared stories and food and laughter, and celebrated as a pack should.

After that quintaint, there were decorations and celebrations, smiles and feasts, and then on one mission, Kolivan watched as Shiro sighed and leaned his chin upon the front console, watching the planets pass without his usual fascination.

“Out with it,” Kolivan demanded.

Shiro bristled and shrugged. “I-It’s nothing.”

“I need your complete focus on this mission, Shiro. It’s going to be one of the most dangerous we ever have endeavored, and I cannot have you distracted in any – ”

“Fine, fine.” Shiro threw up his hands. “It’s my birthday, okay? And every year since our parents left us, Keith has jumps on me to wake me up, and then he’ll sing and if he’s able to gather some dessert from the night before, we’ll devour it in one sitting. But he went with Thace yesterday somewhere. And – now we’re here. And I guess, I don’t know. I just thought…I just thought you’d put on a better poker face, Kolivan.”

Kolivan blinked and glanced over to find himself on the receiving end of a smug expression.

“Oh, come on, Kolivan. I’m not stupid. Where are you taking me?”

“To a Galra outpost,” he maintained.

Leaning back, Shiro hitched his legs onto the console and crossed them at the ankle. “You’re a great leader but a terrible liar.”

Kolivan didn’t quite roll his eyes but growled, “Could you at least act surprised? Ulaz and Keith have been communicating via coded messages for almost a feeb about this.”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t want to get  _you_  in trouble.”

Oh, that kid needed his legs taken out, but instead, Kolivan’s hands shook upon the handles before he reached into his cloak. He pulled out a chain with a shimmering blue crystal and handed it to Shiro.

“What is this?” the cub wondered.

“It’s a piece of a Balmera, a petrified being that produces raw quintessence.”

“…pure life force? Seriously?”

“That crystal should have enough power to heal one mortal wound.” Kolivan swallowed hard and forced between his gritted teeth, “Let’s not have a repeat of your mission before Keith’s birthday.”

The varga it took the pod to return to base was the longest in Kolivan’s entire life.  

In retrospect, Kolivan probably should have expected the crushing hug that threatened to choke even him – and he should have asked Shiro not to wear the crystal to the party. Keith and Ulaz refused to speak with him for almost a full feeb.

Although…the tender smile upon Shiro’s face had been worth it.


	12. Cultural Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro teaches Sendak an important part of Earth’s culture - the selfie. (Yup, I went there.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during [this chapter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10374765/chapters/31510356) of "Double-Edged Dagger" and "The Rise of Voltron" in canon.
> 
> [onoheiwa](https://onoheiwa.tumblr.com) asked on Tumblr: So in your Blade!Shiro fic, if the canon story is mostly the same, what were Sendak's and Shiro's reactions when Sendak first made contact with them on Arus?
> 
> My answer was pretty much - the first contact didn't change much. Sendak knew Shiro was with the paladins, and Shiro's last communication with Sendak wasn't pleasant, prior to opening of the canon series. So - I wrote this instead, which partially takes place during the opening episode. :)

The Black Lion, the other half of Shiro’s soul, understood his panic and acted on instinct, sending a pulse of energy to the other lions. Voltron separated then, and Shiro reined the Black Lion about toward the burning embers of the Galra cruiser.

“We have to get back to that ship!” he yelled across the comms.

“Why?” Pidge asked, perturbed. “We just took it down. Why would want to – ”

“Takashi, was – was Ulaz on Sendak’s – ”

“I – I don’t know, Keith,” Shiro muttered, heart aching as he set Black down on Arus. “I don’t know.”

When Shiro exited Black’s cockpit, Keith ran past him. His little brother sent him one quick, nervous glance before rushing to the edge of the ship and raising his hands. Shiro watched in wonderment as the flames listened to Keith’s commands, dancing about his fingers before finally dissipating. Lance went to work using his power as well, drowning the fire on the opposite side of the ship, while Hunk flung dirt upon the inferno before it could spread to the nearby village.

Shiro hit on his rebreather, connected with his lion, and dove through the burning wall to the interior of the ship. He followed a map he didn’t quite remember, finding the bridge within ticks of entering. Only embers smoldered on certain parts of the command console, so Shiro quickly went to work, solidifying his body in reality and enlivening the console with his hand.

The computer told him only two lifeforms had been on the ship before Voltron attacked, and they escaped before the explosion – Sendak and Haxus. Ulaz was reported as missing, following Shiro’s escape.

Immense relief overwhelmed Shiro, and he exhaled, allowing his shoulder to sag.

Ulaz was alive, and so was Sendak.

Before he could contact the others, an insistent blinking caught Shiro’s eye, a purple glow on the edge of the transparent console. Without thinking, he reached over and hit the corresponding button. A picture uploaded on to the viewer screen, surprising a gasp from him. In it, Shiro stood before a cliff, which overlooked a crumbling village that was alive with festivities. He wore the dark jumpsuit with glowing purple stripes of a Galra lieutenant, and it was obvious that he held the camera taking the picture.

Behind him, Sendak towered, his organic arm wrapped about Shiro’s front in a loose but intimate hold. And he smiled – or wore as close to a grin as the commander could make.

The memory came to Shiro with breathtaking clarity.

“What is this… _selfie_  you mentioned?”

Shiro hit the settings upon his handheld and spoke without looking up. “It’s a custom from my home planet where you take a picture of yourself during a special event, to remember it annuals down the road.”

“And you want to take this… _selfie_? With  _me_?”

The unmasked uncertainty in Sendak’s voice twisted the edge of Shiro’s lips. “Yes. That’s the point. Look, you said you want to learn more about me, right?”

Sendak let out an exasperated sigh, which was an answer in and of itself.

“This is part of my culture – documenting and celebrating milestones with a selfie.”

Shiro raised his eyes, meeting Sendak’s rather guarded but vulnerable gaze. It endeared Shiro to the Galra in ways he wasn’t sure how to accept. Sendak, the strongest commander in the Galra Empire, allowed his infallible mask to fall for Shiro, and that alone was what fueled Shiro’s next words.

“Look, I’ll meet you half way, okay? If you take a selfie with me, I’ll go with you to the space port where we met, okay?”

Sendak’s ears immediately flicked with delight.

“But – But I’ll only have one beer. And you’re buying.”

Sendak thought for a moment and then nodded. “That is…acceptable.”

With a self-appraising nod, Shiro stepped forward and pivoted, so his back fit comfortably against Sendak’s chest. He ignored the overwhelming feeling of serenity and security that flooded him, memories of cool nights but warm beds surfacing, and he raised the handheld high. Even with his rather extensive reach at six-foot-four, it wasn’t enough to capture all of Sendak’s upper body in the frame.  

“You’re going to have to lower your head a bit.”

Sendak let out a sharp huff, then relented, ducking his chin until it lingered next to Shiro’s cheek. He was so close, Shiro’s head spun from the lavender and pine scent of Sendak’s fur and the alluring warmth of his body.

But Sendak looked so uncomfortable, hunched over and cringing.

“Could you scowl just a little less and maybe enjoy the moment? We did just free an entire people from Galra oppression, y’know.”

If anything, Sendak’s scowl deepened. “The planet was under my rule.”

“Don’t pout. You got visitation rights.”

In the camera, Shiro could see Sendak roll his eyes and move to grip Shiro’s arm, but his hand simply hovered, hesitant, over Shiro’s shoulder armor. When Sendak moved to drop the hand to the side, Shiro took a step back, fitting into the circle of Sendak’s arm and allowing it to drape across his chest and shoulders.

In his camera, he grinned. “Come on, Sendak. Smile. This is a day of celebration.”

The commander’s expression softened; his eyes spoke of nothing but pure affection. “Hm. Perhaps it is.”

The handheld flashed.

In the smoldering ship, tears stung Shiro’s eyes and not from the smoke. Sendak had kept this picture in his command console, had probably looked at it numerous times since they parted, and now Shiro’s one-time mate fled to lick the wounds Shiro and Voltron had inflicted.

“Takashi!” Keith’s voice bellowed across the comms, startling Shiro from his reverie. “Do you see Ulaz? Is he onboard?”

“N-No. No one’s here,” Shiro replied. With a few taps, he downloaded the picture into his gauntlet for future viewing. Maybe he could upload it in his quarters once he settled onto the castle-ship. “Everyone, let’s abort and head back to the ship.” 

As he ducked through the blown-out door of the command deck, a familiar exchange followed him like a whispered promise.

_Are you we going to do this on every planet we liberate?_

_Yes. It’s an important custom, Sendak. You can’t just_ reject _my culture._

_Yet you refuse to acknowledge mine._

_You wanted to give me a Mohawk._

_Perhaps this is the only selfie we shall take then._

_…fine, but don’t shave the sides super low, all right? You have enough blackmail material as it is._


	13. Adoption (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro is the leader of their pack - and he’s adopted everyone on the Castle of Lions - except Lance. Yeah, Lance isn’t hurt, though. No. He’s not. Really. (Okay, maybe a little, but he’s certainly not jealous.)   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless platonic Shance fluff. You have been warned. 

Lance wasn’t jealous. He wasn’t. Just because he met Shiro and Keith long before the rest of the paladins and the Alteans, didn’t mean anything, really. They were one team, one family, one pack, one pride, whatever they wanted to call themselves. The wording didn’t matter, either. They were one close-knit unit. 

But Lance felt a twinge of…something, when Shiro shuffled into the kitchen one morning, eyes red-rimmed, face gaunt from lack of sleep. Nightmares must have plagued his dreams, but before Lance could ask, Hunk poured a mug of the castle-ship’s equivalent of coffee and handed it to the Black Paladin.

“Hey, you okay?”

Shiro grunted an affirmation, took the coffee in his Galra hand, then leaned over. Hunk was only a few inches shorter than Shiro, but that difference allowed Shiro to duck in order to swipe his jaw along the Yellow Paladin’s crown. It was a demonstrative motion, coupled with a tick in the back of Shiro’s throat that could almost be misconstrued as a purr. Then he left, shuffling out into the hallway, back to his room or onto the bridge.

Hunk blinked, taken back. “…did Shiro just…pet me…with his chin?”

“It’s a traditional pack greeting,” Keith enlightened a few minutes later, tail swishing in a lazy sway as he bent over in the refrigerator, searching for the cheese spread. “It’s how Galrans greet members of their pack. Generally younger ones, when it’s done on the head. It’s also used to say thank you and, y’know, show their feelings.”

“So you’re basically saying that Shiro adopted Hunk?” Lance asked, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

Keith blushed; his tail stopped lashing. “Well…yeah. He’s kinda done it with everyone. Haven’t you noticed?”

No, Lance hadn’t, but he began to watch Shiro more closely. When the leader picked Pidge up the next night after she’s fallen asleep on the lounge, Shiro swiped his jaw along the top of Pidge’s hair. He did the same thing to Allura after she almost passed out following an intense battle, and Lance noticed Shiro never said “thank you” to Keith, either, only swiped his jaw across his little brother’s head and did that noise in the back of his throat.

Lance tried not to be hurt – so what if Shiro didn’t revere him as one of his cubs or kits or whatever the Galra called their adopted family members? It didn’t change how Lance felt about Shiro.

Then the Rover-lookalike blew up the castle’s crystal, and Lance woke up in a cold, tiny tube, which Coran called a cryo-replenisher. Allura urged him to get dressed, but it was Shiro who brought his clothes. The leader waited behind the divider of the two medical examination areas until Lance pulled on his shirt.

“Hey,” he beckoned and then lifted a hand to Lance. It reminded Lance of something, some scenario couldn’t quite remember, but then his fingers folded with Shiro’s metal ones. Shiro pulled him close, drawing him into a tight embrace, and his jaw ruffled Lance’s bangs.

And Lance remembered then. He remembered that first time they saw each other again, on Earth, when Keith turned from his conspiracy connect-the-dots board to motion toward Lance.

After nervously rubbing the back of his neck, Lance put out a hand, not bothering to smother the warm smile he felt twisting upon his lips. “Hey, Shiro. You probably don’t remember me, but –”

“ _Lance_ ,” Shiro breathed, taking Lance’s hand and drawing him close, just like he did now. And his jaw had run along Lance’s hair, claiming him as one of Shiro’s cubs.

He’d been the first paladin Shiro had claimed – other than Keith, that was.      

“Not a movement went by that I hadn’t worried about you,” Shiro whispered into his hair, arm tight about his back, hand cradling Lance’s between their chests. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Lance had just held on to Shiro then, pressing his face against his leader’s shoulder, and now he did the same, hand gripped tightly in Shiro’s comforting embrace.

“Don’t do that again, okay?” Shiro said, continuously running his jaw along the top of Lance’s hand.

It was comforting. It was relaxing. It was soothing. And Lance didn’t complain when Shiro refused to release him for quite some time.


	14. Learning You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Sendak have difficulty with intimacy after so many years apart. (NSFW non-graphic after/before sex scenes)

**[eprime](http://eprime.tumblr.com/)**  asked: Sendak/Shiro bad sex :)

* * *

A fine layer of sweat slicked Shiro’s skin and stuck to Sendak’s fur as the older Galra caged him between those massive arms. As Sendak nuzzled across Shiro’s jaw and down his shoulder, spreading his scent, the current Black Paladin blinked, shocked and speechless.

“Has this – Has this happened before?” Sendak asked, continuing his soothing ministrations, even as embarrassment burned Shiro’s cheeks.

“Not…Not really,” Shiro managed, fingers carding through the soft fur of Sendak’s forearms.

Shiro sighed, his tipping back into the mountain of pillows behind him as the proof of Sendak’s arousal cooled upon his heated skin. It had been quite a long time since his last sexual encounter, and though he took care of his own pleasure for the last eight annuals, he expected his first time with his mate – his chosen, handsome, rather endowed mate – to be explosive in all the ways he remembered from his youth.

Instead, he managed to enjoy the experience but never reached the pinnacle of heat that fueled many of his teenage dreams. 

“Well,” Sendak purred, affectionate and tender, claws teasing the taut muscles over Shiro’s stomach, “what do you enjoy?”

“Enjoy?” Shiro echoed, meeting Sendak’s concerned gaze.

“Yes. What acts specifically bring you pleasure?”

He was twenty-seven, a Paladin of Voltron, and the chosen successor to the Blade of Marmora leadership. And somehow, Shiro still blushed like a schoolgirl. “I, uh, I’m not sure.”

Sendak jerked, alarmed and skeptical. “How is that even possible?”

Shiro pushed at Sendak’s shoulder, suddenly aware of his lover’s closeness, and fought to sit up. Sendak obliged by falling to the side, though he hitched up an elbow, which just showcased his defined muscles.

Neither encouragement nor attraction were Shiro’s problems.

“Look, it’s – it’s been awhile since I – y’know, did anything like this. And before, it had never been for my pleasure but for someone else’s.” There were definitely acts he enjoyed and certain motions that brought him to the edge of ecstasy, but he never quite explored what truly made mating…enjoyable.

Lips and teeth skirted over his shoulders, sending shivers up his spine, and when Sendak applied gentle pressure to his back, Shiro allowed himself to be coaxed to the pillows once more. A slow, sensual embrace pooled desire deep in Shiro’s belly, and he opened his mouth further to urge Sendak to continue.

The former commander ghosted his claws over Shiro’s stomach and under their light covers, but stopped from teasing Shiro’s most sensitive areas.

“W-What are you doing?” he asked, dazed and lustful, even as Sendak retreated to nip along his collar once more, causing Shiro’s back to arch.  

“We’re taking it slowly.” Another nip, followed by swipe. “Tonight is all about you, my little  _kzelz_. We’ll find out what brings you pleasure and what does not. We’ll discover everything about you and your body until we both have a firm understanding of what it enjoys, and then we’ll try again.”

Shiro glanced away, overwhelmed at Sendak’s soothing nature and his endless patience, before muttering, “Keep…talking.”

Sendak blinked, yellow eyes flashing.

“…talking?”

“Yeah.” Shiro’s fingers dipped into his lover’s mane and brought Sendak’s lips to his own. “Your voice…it does things to me…I like.”

“Ah.” And with a bold grin, Sendak complied.  


	15. Brother-in-Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Operation Kuron - Blade!Shiro style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this today, but I figure...ah. With the clone theory at the forefront - let's do it. 
> 
> **Warning:** Mention of prostitution and non-consensual marking; violence

  **Anon Prompt** : Assuming there's a Shiro clone project going on in the Galra Empire that I guess would've been around since Shiro's fun year - how would Sendak react to finding out about it? Visit it? Destroy it? Love it? Hate it? 

* * *

**Short Answer** : Sendak would have a harem of Shiro clones. He’d collect them all - garrison!Shiro, anime-haired!Shiro, gladiator!Shiro, paladin!Shiro, clone!Shiro, and they’d just cuddle in bed all day. Seriously. 

**Long Answer** : 

"Perhaps my brother finally decided to dump your quiznaking tail,” Keith spat, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as he glowered at the console screen.

Sendak stared back, face grave, though something in his eyes alarmed Keith. Concern? No, it was barely masked  _fear_.

“Keith, you were there the last time I saw your brother. Did he appear as if he wished to part ways?”

No. As per Kolivan’s request, someone on the Castle of Lions was always to accompany Takashi when Sendak left to return to his post as a commander in the Galra Empire. The duty fell to Keith most of the time as Takashi’s brother and fellow Blade, though he avoided it when possible. Watching his strong, enduring older brother become a solicitous, catering mate always unnerved Keith. Sendak didn’t deserve such affection from Takashi. The sooner his brother recognized that, the sooner they could leave Sendak where he belonged – in a Galra prison, branded as a traitor.  

But Keith’s hopes weren’t realized yet. The last time Sendak and Takashi said their good-byes, following one of Sendak’s furloughs from Lotor’s command, Keith had watched Takashi lean into Sendak’s embrace, pushing onto his toes to nuzzle along the commander’s jaw and neck. There had been murmured admissions and breathless promises, and certainly no indication of cutting emotional ties.

“Did something happen in the last two movements?” Sendak asked, breaking Keith out his reverie.

A million thoughts came to mind – Takashi’s new haircut, his measured words, his never-ending headache – but Keith just growled, “If my brother wanted you to know, he would have told you.”

“ _Keith_.” Exasperation filled Sendak’s voice, but pain, too, and uncertainty. “Your brother has never gone more than a few quintaints without sending me a coded transmission. Two full movements is disconcerting. It should be to you as well.”

No, Keith really didn’t care if his brother had stopped sending love notes to Sendak. In fact, he could have gone the rest of his life without knowing that Takashi had sent them, but for the sake of his brother’s health and mental well-being, he would admit, albeit begrudgingly, that Sendak had a point.

Keith relented, dropping his arms to his side with a slap. “The Black Lion. He won’t respond to Takashi anymore.”

Sendak’s eyes shot wide.

“Takashi’s been pretty devastated,” Keith continued, crossing his arms and glowering, “and – and he made me fly Black. And Lance is now in Red, and it’s just – ”

“Does your brother have his inking?” Sendak demanded, almost manic.

“Huh?” What did that have to do with anything?

“His skin inking – the one that deems him Galra,” Sendak snapped. He leaned toward the camera like he could jump out through the screen. “Have you seen it?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like he goes around showing it –”

“Keith!”

“I-I don’t know…maybe?” Keith shook his head, opening his mouth only to click it shut. No, he hadn’t seen it in quite some time, before the Black Lion shut Takashi out for sure. Every time they trained, Takashi retired to his quarters to shower and change, not using the training deck locker room like he had done before.

“No,” Keith affirmed, hands curling fists, shoulders bunching as he glared at the door. “He’s been avoiding showing us his shoulder.”

Sendak’s uncertain expression glazed over with the fury of an inferno. “When your brother was detained by Haggar, there was a project. Operation Kuron. Ulaz worked closely with the witch. I was not privy to the details at the time.”

“Oh _-kay?_  Do you have a point or – ”

“Cloning. Your brother must have been captured during one of your missions and – Keith! Where are you going? Don’t confront the clone. We must devise a strategy to – Keith!”

But Keith stopped listening the moment he heard “clone,” activating his bayard and launching himself onto the training deck. There, “Shiro” gave pointers to a rather crestfallen Lance, and Keith saw it now – the similar but slightly different contours of this being’s face, the way he spoke down to Lance, to all of them. Keith’s claws gripped his swords – his bayard and his blade – until they trembled.

That first night Black failed to react, “Shiro” had uncurled Keith’s tail from his thigh. Keith should have known then.

The devastating thought waned as pure fury raced through Keith with the intensity of the Red Lion. If he focused hard enough, he could feel the underlying menace radiating off the Black Lion, too. One thought dominated Keith’s mind, and as he tore forward, swords out to slice, to maim, to  _kill_ , he roared, “Where’s my brother?”

The clone’s head perked up, uncertainty flashing through its gaze, but it never moved to attack Keith. Instead, it dodged his blows, parried his thrusts, and tried to reason with him.

“Keith! What are you doing? Keith! Stop!”

Lance, too, bellowed, “Keith. Dude. It’s Shiro!”

But it wasn’t, for once Keith landed a hit, the clone faltered, and it allowed him to slice through the clone’s right sleeve. As it fell away, Takashi’s scarred skin came into view.

HIs scarred but not glistening skin. He was missing Takashi’s inking.

This person – this  _thing_  – was not his brother.  

Only a beat passed before the clone charged forward, no longer able to hide its identity, and with an animalistic roar, it launched itself at Keith – only to be met with a blast by Lance’s blaster. Keith followed through, kicking, punching, attacking the clone with everything he had until he managed to bury his bayard in the clone’s left shoulder, pinning it to the wall. Swiveling, he put all his effort behind a thrust of his Marmora blade and ran through the clone’s right bicep.

“Where is my brother?” he demanded again.

The clone remained tight-lipped. Though Keith’s heart physically ached to see his brother’s struggling face, emotion so rich and thick it threatened to curb his anger, Keith refused to let it. Twisting his bayard until the clone screamed, Keith shrieked _, “Where the quiznak is my brother?”_

Though shallow breaths and large gulps, the clone still refused to answer until suddenly, his expression went slack. In a measured, blank tone, he revealed, “Trexal Base, in the Thanos Quadrant.”

Keith swiveled to see Pidge standing next to Lance, fingers dancing across her gauntlet screen. “Apparently, it’s part android, too.”

Lance’s face remained tense and unrelenting, this bayard trained upon their fake leader. “If he moves, I’ll shoot him.”

Keith cracked as close to a smile as he could concerning the circumstances, then opened a communication channel on his gauntlet. “Sendak, I have a location. I’m going to need the codes to neutralize the base’s defenses.”

They came less than a varga later, and the castle-ship made a jump quickly thereafter.  

Coran tried to dissuade Keith from joining the team on the recovery mission. “I know you’re protective of your brother, Keith, but we just don’t know what we’ll find. And you tend to fly off the…ahem,  _bayard_ , if you will, when it comes to Shiro.”

Keith would have none of it, and he wouldn’t rest until he held his brother safe within his tail. So he hardened his resolve, swallowed whatever fear tried to overrun him, and forged ahead into the base. No amount of bracing, however, could spare him for when his eyes set upon the small tank that held Takashi.

A glorified test tube, the tank barely reached beyond Takashi’s feet and head and bubbled to the brim with a thick, pink liquid. A metal mask descended from the roof of the confinement to cover Takashi’s nose and mouth, like a muzzle, while the rest of him remained unrestrained. Tight, black briefs covered only the essential private areas, allowing the team to digest all of Takashi’s injuries and markings – his Galra arm, his glowing inking, and his scars from his time in the gladiatorial arena. A band about his bicep prevented him from activating his weaponized hand and escaping.  

Takashi looked so much younger than twenty-seven, eyes lightly shut, hair slightly longer and ragged from his time away from the team, though it certainly hadn’t reached the clone’s length. And he was unconscious, body floating limply in the tank.

Did he even know he’d been captured? Somehow, that seemed like the better of two options. Keith didn’t want to think of any situation where his brother had been tortured – again.

Keith approached the tank in a slow, demoralized stride, attempting and failing to gather any and all of his bearings. Takashi looked so broken, so defeated, so lifeless. Keith wanted nothing more than shatter the glass coffin and reclaim his brother, but Pidge was already typing away on her transparent console. “I’m going to have to wake him before we drain the tank. You’re the only thing that can keep him calm, Keith.”

Which was true. Though the others slowly began to understand and help Takashi through a panic attack, Thace had taught Keith the proper breathing exercises and soothing words to bring Takashi back from his troubled past.

When Takashi’s eyes fluttered open and he began to thrash inside the tank, Keith waved a hand in front of his brother’s eyes and sucked in a deep breath, holding it for three seconds and then releasing it through pursed lips.

He repeated the process, tail waving behind him with each breath, eyes locked with his brother’s, not allowing Takashi’s wide and frightened ones reprieve. After another slow inhale, Keith held his breath for three seconds and released.

_It’s okay,_  he said, wordless. _I’m here. I came. You’re safe._

And Takashi breathed.

Eventually, the tank drained of its offensively pink liquid, and Takashi’s unsteady feet touched the bottom grate. When the glass lifted, Keith caught Takashi and subsequently fell, dragged down by his brother’s overwhelming weight. Takashi gripped him haphazardly about the shoulders and torso, refusing to let go, holding on to Keith like the anchor he was in Takashi’s life.

Keith clutched him just as fiercely, the sentiment wholeheartedly echoed.

It was Lance who unhooked the mask and Hunk who covered Takashi with a blanket. They brought his Black Paladin armor, too, but waited until the shaking, the panting, and the silent tears stopped completely. Takashi’s recovery couldn’t come fast enough, and Pidge informed them of company. Takashi managed to collect himself then – his team needed him, and more importantly, his pack was in danger.

Having only took one lion, the team huddled in Green the entire way, Takashi gripping the back of Pidge’s chair. They surrounded the Black Paladin, everyone pressing against him, and it equally reassured the team and their reclaimed leader that they’d survived yet another ordeal.

Keith managed to swallow his lingering fear and wrap his tail around Takashi’s thigh. His brother smiled a tearful grin and tucked him under his arm, never making a move to undo the tether between them.

Despite Coran’s assurance that the castle crew could handle Takashi’s recovery, Ulaz arrived to run a full work-up on Takashi  –  and to smother him to no end, of course. Antok, Thace, and Kolivan also found their way onto the castle-ship in record time, though Kolivan arrived last due to a mission in the Faraway Systems.

Sendak came a full three quintaints later. He approached silently but expectantly, gentle hands rising to cradle Takashi’s cheeks like a precious gift, and then caressed Takashi’s forehead in what was the Galra equivalent of a chaste kiss.  

Keith and the Blades offered them privacy, though Keith found Sendak sometime later on the floor next to his brother’s bed, his front facing the door to protect his mate from any attacks. Takashi still slept soundly due to the medicine Ulaz gave him to counteract any diseases he might have contracted on the Galra cruiser.

Sendak acknowledged Keith with a simple nod before returning his attention to the datapad upon his knee. He froze when Keith muttered, “Thank you…for saving my brother.”

After a moment of thought, Sendak resumed scrolling, “I did not do it for your gratitude.”

Right. He kept forgetting what a tail Sendak could be. “I don’t know why my brother puts up with you.”

The answer came swift, unexpected, and rather hostile. “Whether you wish to acknowledge it, I was the only person who cared about you and your brother for quite some time.”

Keith reached for his bayard as Sendak raised his eyes, stunning Keith with a rather open albeit unfriendly expression. “Anytime Takashi or you needed something – food, a place to stay, medical treatment – I welcomed you into my quarters at Drule Central.”

“F-For – For a price!” Keith practically shrieked. “Y-You paid my brother for – for –”

“Yes, I did, but I also took care of him –  _and_  you. Takashi knew when he came to me, he’d be all right. I made him – and  _make_  him – feel  _safe_.”

“Then why did we always leave?” Keith demanded in a cruel whisper. “Why did Takashi keep running away from you if you cared so freaking much?”

The honesty remained, even if Sendak fought the wince that threatened to envelop his features. “Because I treated him like a lower lifeform. I was the highest-ranking commander in the Galra Empire, and my position afforded me many things. I believed it should afford the affection and the devotion of a lower lifeform mate – or at the very least, that of a whore.”

Now Keith activated his bayard, which grew to its full length. “You fucking – ”

“Every time Takashi came to me, I told him he would never be able to survive without my help. I told him I would take care of him – and you – and that he would never want for anything. But he had to surrender to me completely. He had to be mine and only mine, and he could never leave.”

Disgust slammed hard into Keith and wormed its way into his gut.

Still Sendak continued, undeterred and callously honest, “But your brother is proud and he refused my offer. When he killed a Galran lieutenant, he beckoned me. I feared for him – and for myself. I – I thought I could lose him to any number of vile creatures in Drule Central, and it was a thought I could not bear. You are young, a cub. I will not ask you to imagine a life without your chosen mate because I do not think you are capable of it yet.”

Keith flinched as if physical hit, a heavy clump of ice settled in his gut at the simple thought of the Blue Lion and its paladin being lost in a fight. He quickly dismissed the petrifying thought, neither having the will nor want to entertain it.

“So I scarred Takashi’s face,” Sendak continued. “That way, he would stay with me. That way, he  _could_  only stay with me.”

“You don’t deserve him,” Keith hissed, hand tightening about his bayard’s hilt. He wanted so badly to plunge it into Sendak’s chest and carve out his heart for all the pain he caused Takashi.

“No, I do not,” Sendak admitted, “but your brother is too generous. He afforded me another chance, even after my transgressions against him. I will not allow any harm to come to him – by my own claw or any other. That is my solemn vow to you, Keith – and to myself. And if such a time comes that I fail, you will have no need for your bayard.”

Sendak would take care of the issue himself.

“What changed your mind? About Takashi and his status in the empire?” Keith questioned, barely able to keep his weapons to himself. No doubt, Takashi would have run Sendak through with his own blade if the commander still revered him as a lower lifeform.

Sendak sighed, shoulders pressing back against Takashi’s bunk. With dark circles under his eyes and a raw, broken expression maiming his face, Keith navigated around the once impenetrable level of confidence and deceit to find Sendak’s troubled soul.

“You do not understand the anguish and torment I suffered the last eight annuals believing to have lost your brother, and not because of his profession but because of my arrogance.” A pregnant pause before – “Takashi felt… _something_  for me, all those annuals ago, if not love than at least lust. He would have stayed, Keith. He would have stayed any number of times I’d asked if only I had approached him as a mate and not as a keeper.

“It is a mistake for which I cannot repent and one that I regret every quintaint.”

Before Keith could reply, Takashi groaned and shifted in bed, his half-lidded eyes finding Keith instinctively. He smiled, tired but affectionate, before shifting closer to Sendak and nuzzling against the older Galran’s neck. He ended up with his head propped up on Sendak’s shoulder, nose buried in the commander’s silken fur.

His breathing evened out within moments.

Keith still barely reigned in his bristling anger and only managed to do so thanks to the soothing presence of the Black Lion in the back of his mind. Despite what Keith felt for the Galra commander, Takashi  _loved_  Sendak and trusted him with not only the most intimate secrets of the paladins but also their lives. There was no greater honor that Takashi could bestow upon another.

And Sendak had just saved his brother –  _again_. 

Heaving a great sigh, Keith stomped out of the room only to return a few moments later, carrying two glasses of nunvil and a few cookies Hunk made to celebrate Takashi’s return. Keith might never forgive Sendak for harming his brother, in more ways than one, but he would respect his brother’s choice in a mate, especially one that shared Keith’s mantra in life – to never let Takashi be hurt again.

When Sendak accepted the cookies and drink, Keith encircled the commander’s wrist with his tail. And though he might have imagined it, he thought he saw Sendak smile.


	16. Operation Kuron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kolivan learns of Operation Kuron (i.e., this was his mission in the Faraway Systems mentioned in the chapter prior).

**[thepheonixqueen](http://thepheonixqueen.tumblr.com/)**  asked: What would happen in Blade!Shiro au if the Galra cloned Shiro and the Blade/Kolivan found out?

* * *

Of course, Kolivan listened when Ulaz told him the Blade of Marmora needed to attack a certain research facility in the Kenzir Galaxy, only to find a scientific lab that would haunt Kolivan’s nightmares. When he wiped off the condensation on the large containment tubes, he gasped at what appeared to be lookalikes of his own cub. 

Antok hacked into the system to learn about Operation: Kuron, a secret project to clone Shiro and place his double in the Voltron Force to undermine Keith, Kolivan’s younger cub. 

A fury Kolivan knew only a few times in his life - his younger cub currently dealt with the loss of his beloved older brother for a second time, and the Galra wished to exploit the boy’s undying love for Shiro - and he lifted his sword, ready to plunge it through the glass and into the heart of the clone. 

Only he couldn’t. 

The clone wore the face of his elder cub.  

“Kolivan?” Antok whispered, cautious. 

Kolivan lowered his weapon. “Make sure they are in a cryogenic sleep and then order the tech teams to keep them that way. We’ll transfer them to the headquarters for safekeeping.”

He might not be able to kill them, but he wouldn’t allow them their freedom, either.  


	17. Shock to the System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro has a violent allergic reaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon Prompt: So since Shiro brought back those catnip tea bags and accidentally got Keith high as a kite, has Keith ever brought back something that affected Shiro? Either in a good way or got him sick?
> 
> Warning: Shiro goes into anaphylactic shock.
> 
> Also, when I finish all the prompts, I'll put them in sequential order. This one takes place after "Catnip," but you don't need to read that to understand this. Thanks!

“Takashi! Takashi, look what Thace brought me back from the last planet he visited.”

Keith bounded into the Hilt to find his brother standing before the transparent screens, speaking in hushed tones to Kolivan. He came to a screeching halt just behind the Blade leader and Takashi, and he glanced back and forth between the two. They cut their conversation short, and wordlessly, Takashi ushered Keith under his arm.

“What you got there, kiddo?”

Keith lifted up his handful of plants – they smelled so fresh and crisp and sweet – and Takashi leaned over, taking a long whiff.

“Hm. They smell a bit…” He pulled back suddenly, a dry cough jerking his body, and Keith’s head snapped up at the sound of his brother’s hoarse voice. “… _strange_. What – What are  _these_ …” His grip upon Keith’s shoulder weakened. His face paled. His breath increased, panting. “Koli… _Kolivan_  – ”

“Takashi?” Keith asked. Why was his brother leaning back like that? “What’s – TAKASHI!”

Takashi’s eyes rolled back into his head, and Keith reached for his brother’s wrist too late. Takashi plummeted, but just before he hit the ground, Antok slid underneath him, catching Takashi’s lifeless form in a cradling embrace 

“Shiro,” he called, an urgent tone poisoning his voice, and then Kolivan was at his side, fingers pressed against Takashi’s throat.

“He’s gone into cardiac arrest?” He swung toward Keith. “Get Ulaz.  _Now_.”

Keith dropped Thace’s gift to the ground and bound from the room. He tried his best to explain the situation to Ulaz, but all the medic needed to hear was that Takashi had collapsed before took off with a bag in his hand. Thace appeared just before the Hilt’s opening, eyes asking Ulaz what was wrong, but Ulaz entered without answering.

“Shiro,” Ulaz called in a stern, tight voice as he came to kneel by Takashi’s side, and Keith watched, panic gripping him.

Kolivan leaned over Takashi, fingers threaded in a fist over Takashi’s chest. He counted out loud, soft but severe, as Ulaz lifted Takashi’s chin and checked his pulse. He glanced around, frantic and wondering, and his eyes eventually settled upon the small heap of plants Thace had brought back.

“He’s gone into anaphylactic shock,” Ulaz declared, an eerie sense of relief in his expression and tone, and he ripped opened his bag. “Thace, get rid of those.”

Thace scooped up the plants and quickly exited the Hilt while Ulaz extracted a thick tube from his bag. Ripping off the cap to reveal a long needle, he wasted no time in puncturing the outside of Takashi’s thigh. An eternity passed; then another. Takashi’s eyes flew upon, and his body jerked with a desperate gasp. Antok held his head upon his lap, while Kolivan clasped Takashi’s hand in his own. Takashi coughed twice, haggard and raw, and though he shuddered, Takashi relaxed when Ulaz murmured something too low for Keith to hear.

“Keith.” Thace came to his side, sans the plants, and place a hand upon the mat of Keith’s hair. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up, huh? And then you can see your brother.”

Thace ordered him to scrub hard, especially on his claws and face, and after Keith exited the shower, Thace groomed him properly, drying his hair and combing his fur. It took longer than usual, two or three vargas, before Thace deemed him presentable. By then, Takashi had been placed in his room with a line sticking out his arm. Antok hovered nearby while Ulaz wrote upon his datapad, standing at the foot of the bed.

Takashi welcomed Keith up onto the bed and brushed back his long bangs. “Well, hey. Aren’t you looking all fluffy today?”

Dark lines stretched under Takashi’s eyes, and his smile hung, tired and weak.

“What happened to you?” Keith demanded, tugging his head out of Takashi’s reach.

His brother’s smile remained kind and tolerant. “Just a bad allergic reaction to something in the plants. Nothing too serious.”

Antok grunted; Shiro frowned at him but said nothing.

Keith looked up from under his thick bangs, taking in his brother’s worrisome gaze. “You’re okay now?”

“He is fine, cub,” Ulaz said, running his claws through Keith’s hair, thumb ruffling the short strands at his nape. “Antok and I will stay close for a few vargas, make sure your brother recovers. We have new medicine and a protocol for missions, so we know he’ll be safe.”

“Okay.” That seemed like a good idea. “Um…Takashi, is it okay if I hang around for a while, too?” He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to leave his brother’s side yet.

Takashi smiled and lifted his good arm again, tucking Keith against his side. “Of course, kiddo. You never have to ask.”

Thace lingered by the edge of the bed, shifting a bit uncomfortably, so Keith glanced up at his brother’s exhausted face. “Can Thace stay, too?”

“Sure.” He smiled, and Keith didn’t quite understand when Takashi settled back upon the pillows and patted the opposite side of the bed. Thace took the seat then, his hand coming to rest upon Takashi’s.

Eventually, after a few vargas napping, Keith and Takashi ended up sitting cross-legged across from one another, playing an old hand-slap game from Earth when Kolivan entered. The leader spoke in hushed tones to Ulaz, only for Shiro to yell, “I’m fine. You’re all overreacting.”

“You’re not to leave that bed for a whole quintaint,” Kolivan said without glancing up from the datapad. “Ulaz?”

“The medicine has already synthesized and placed in his uniform.”

“Thace?”

“Keith has been thoroughly groomed and does not suffer the same symptoms.”

“Antok?”

“Both has been adequately scent-marked.”

“Both can speak for themselves,” Takashi added.

Kolivan said nothing else, just came over to ruffle Keith’s hair before dipping to greet him properly. He then leaned over the bed, gliding his jaw against Shiro’s, before simply holding Takashi, cheek-to-cheek. Takashi’s hand came up to grip Kolivan’s glove, and after a few ticks, Kolivan moved away with a pat on Shiro’s shoulder. He took a seat next to Antok and began typing on his datapad. Takashi lifted up his hands again, curling up his fingers to urge Keith to begin playing again.

Keith glanced around, surrounded by the comforting presences of his pack, and placed his hands upon Takashi’s to start another round.

 


	18. Skin Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro reflects upon scars he received before becoming a member of the Blade of Marmora.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompt: My request is a ficlet with Shiro reflecting any other marks/scars/things he got when he was forced to sell himself.

“You mated with a triple-clawed Panthera?”

Shiro huffed as he rolled to the side of the bed and snatched his shirt off the end table. “Well, when you put it that way – hey!” He twisted away when Sendak’s claw traced one of the larger scars along his shoulder blade. “Do you mind?”

“And that is the scarring of the talons of a Taurinus.”

“Are you going to call out all my marks every time we’re together, or is this just a special occasion?” Shiro snapped as he pulled on his skin-tight shirt, the one he wore under his chestplate, and rose to find the rest of his armor.

“Perhaps you received those marks in the arena?” Sendak continued, lounging on the bed with the blankets bunched around his waist. “I do not remember you battling any Taurini or Pantheras.”

Shiro let out a tiny sigh and cursed under his breath. How did he get a boot lodged in between the desk and the couch?

“I take it from your silence that you do not wish to discuss this topic.”

Shiro crouched low to stretch an arm between the close fixtures. His fingertips barely brushed against the heel. “You want anything from the mess before we head out?”

“And now you’re simply going to avoid the subject.”

Shiro growled and spun, shoulders bunched with tension. “Look, you know exactly how I got those marks, so don’t act like you don’t. And if you want me to go into specific details about how I acquired them, then fine. I will, but I don’t see how you’ll benefit from that.”

“Do you need to talk about them?”

Shiro blinked, head pulled back in bewilderment. “Huh?”

Sendak came forward then, dressed in nothing more than his black briefs, and seized the robe thrown over the foot of the bed. Instead of pulling it around himself, he placed it about Shiro’s shoulders, soft fur brushing against his lover’s forehead. “Do you want to tell me about them? Have you ever told anyone about them?”

As Sendak pulled the sash tightly, effectively covering Shiro completely, the Black Paladin glanced away, cheeks flushed with heat and embarrassment. “I’ve, uh, spoken a little about that time with Ulaz. Kolivan, too. I used to go to Antok’s room if I thought I’d have nightmares, but...”

“And your brother?” Sendak asked, hands rubbing up and down Shiro’s shoulders warmly.

Shiro still shivered. “When he asks, I don’t lie, but – I don’t want him to feel guilty and – and I  _can’t_ … explain everything I did. I just can’t.”

A moment passed when Shiro allowed Sendak to comfort him. The commander wrapped his larger arms about Shiro’s smaller frame, tucking the young paladin’s body against his own massive bulk. His snout nuzzled Shiro’s hair in a soothing gesture, and when he whispered with a little less force and a little more affection, “Do you need to talk about it?” Shiro surrendered.  

Leaning his cheek against his lover’s broad chest, he said, “Yeah – Yeah, I think I may need to.”

“Then I’m here to listen,” and he drew Shiro back onto the bed and into his secure embrace.


	19. Late Night Needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sendak has some rather specific needs in the middle of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Strong language, discussion of sex (nothing really happens though)

Shiro awoke to the whispered trill and a soft cheek against his own. “Taka… _Taka_ …”

Shiro kept his back to his mate, arms tight about his pillow. “No.”

“Takashi, just once.”

“ _No_ , Sendak. Go back to sleep.”

Strong arms wrapped about Shiro’s waist. “Just once more, and I will let you sleep.”

“We can do it again in the morning.”

The scent of stardust and pine filled his nose as Sendak tucked Shiro against his larger form, guiding his jaw along Shiro’s. “Taka, I have to leave early to rejoin Lotor’s command. We need to do it now.”

Muffled by his pillow, Shiro sighed loudly and dramatically. “… _really_ , Sen?”

“Just once more, and I will not wake you again.”

When Sendak used  _that_  voice – a low, sensual purr – Shiro couldn’t help but give his mate anything he wanted, even if it met losing the little sleep he had been afforded.

Throwing his pillow against the headrest, Shiro grunted, “Fine. We’ll watch  _The Voltron Show of Arms_  – again, but we’re skipping the Yaztak System part.”

He would never forgive Pidge for making that highlight reel of their show and then mentioning it during dinner three quintaints ago.

Sendak’s ears drooped. “We cannot skip the good parts, Taka.”

“That’s the part where I do the show in a tight shirt and no armor. What’s so good about that?”

Sendak leered. Shiro rolled his eyes.

“You see me without a shirt all the time. I’m not wearing one now!”

“Hm…perhaps you can act out that part for me instead, show me how your adoring fans would have liked to have seen you –”

“Nope.” Shiro threw his legs over the bed and stood, reaching for his long-sleeved shirt over the back of his desk chair. “You can’t have both. If you want to get one full watch, you’re going to have to forgo sex.”

Sendak crossed his arms and lifted his chin, in what Shiro could only see as a pout.

“Ancients,” he breathed, “are you actually debating between sex and the video?”

“It is quite amusing.”

Shiro rolled his eyes and turned, only for a massive claw to encircle his waist and drag back to the bed. 

“All right,” Sendak conceded. “We’ll skip the good parts and reenact them here.”

Shiro’s arms reached up to skim over Sendak’s chest and wrap around his lover’s neck. “Now you’re talking.”

“…or we can put it on your monitor here and do both.”

“Really?  _Really?_  You want to put on _The Show of Arms_ while we’re – ” Shiro reached for his pillow and turned his back on Sendak. When Shiro felt Sendak’s hand hovering over him, he snapped, “Don’t even think about it.”

Sendak pulled his hand away, only to reach out again, and Shiro snapped without ever even opening his eyes, “Nope. Go to sleep.”

“…how about the coitus?”

“ _Goodnight, Sen_.”

“…it’s going to be three movements before we can be together again.”

Shiro’s eyes opened, and after fixing Sendak with a flat glare, he straddled his lover’s waist. “Fine. One time and make it a quick. And no nuzzling.”

“Hm. Fine…Shiro my… _hero_.”

Shiro’s face burned, and he groaned as he pressed his forehead against Sendak’s chest. There was no way in hell he was getting it up tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, for the life of me, can't remember why I wrote this. It wasn't a prompt...it just...happened one night.


	20. The Blood of the Covenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro meets the one person from his past he never thought he’d see again, and it makes him appreciate all he’s gained in his young life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of three ficlets with the moms in Shiro's life. 
> 
> To the person who asked who the pilot of the Kerberos missions was - I'm sorry. I totally forgot I wrote this...
> 
> A lovely prompt from NightWings: Oh I had another idea what if Keith and Shiro wanted to do some thing for their blade family/pack like Father’s Day kinda thing?
> 
> That is such a lovely, fluffy fic idea! I love it! …of course, my angsty mind went here (I’m genuinely sorry…)

 

Shiro’s head jerked up when he heard a freed prisoner murmur his name.

Coran, whom she asked, boasted in a kind jubilation, “Ah! Do you know Shiro from his time in a Galra prison?”

The woman – tall with long graying braid – shook her head. “No. I left him back on Earth with his father before I went on a mission to Kerberos. I – I had heard others calling a paladin ‘Shiro’ and heard most of the paladins are human. I wanted to see if perhaps my son is among them.”

Coran’s look of absolute earnest over the woman’s head maimed Shiro but not quite as much as the awkward hug he shared with his birth mother when he introduced himself. They ended up in the common room, his mother nursing a steaming cup of nunvil while he simply listened. She’d been captured on Kerberos and experimented on the Galra. They thought she was a paladin until they realized her part in the universe’s ballad had been significant but not topical.

“I always meant to come back for you,” she explained, curt in a cold tone that didn’t quite convey heartache. “I see your father took care of you.”

Shiro kept silent for a long moment, churning the words in his mind, before he finally settled on, “I will always be grateful to my father and stepmother.”

Akira Shirogane knew he didn’t mean her. “I see.”

“They gave me the greatest gift they ever could.”

The door to the common room opened then, and Shiro found himself smiling even before he heard, “Takashi! Coran said – ”

“ – I have other duties to attend to. Thank you for the reminder, Keith.” For some reason, one he didn’t care to seek, Shiro couldn’t bring himself to introduce his birth mother to his little brother. “I must be going. Coran and Allura will see to your needs, and I’ll make sure you receive safe passage to the nearest planet in the Voltron Alliance.”

Keith’s ears drooped; his tail stopped lashing. “But Taka – ”

“Thank you,” his mother replied, standing as well. “It was good to see you again, Takashi. I – I had wondered about you.”

Wondered, not missed.

Shiro simply nodded, wrapped an arm about his brother’s neck, and all but dragged him from the room.

“Taka – Takashi!” Keith struggled against his brother’s unyielding gripping. “That’s – That’s it? Isn’t she going to stay? Aren’t you going to ask her to stay?”

“There’s no need.”

“But – But Taka! She’s your – ”

“She gave birth to me, Keith. That’s all.”

Which Shiro knew Keith could relate.

“Hey.” Shiro loosened his grip on his little brother and tasseled Keith’s hair. “Let me grab Coran, all right? Then we’ll go a few rounds on the training deck. You and me?”

Keith’s ears remained drooped, but he nodded nonetheless. He never gave up an opportunity to best his brother – or at least try to.

Shiro found Coran on the bridge and made the necessary arrangements for his mother before sending off a coded message to the Blade of Marmora. He then met Keith on the training deck and lost himself in the usual rhythm of their sparring. The sparks of their bayards, the soft hum of his arm, the shallow breaths and vicious growls – they reminded Shiro of their youth, spending hours with Kolivan and the pack in the Blade of Marmora headquarters. Keith only began to join them in the later years, but he cherished those times, helping to teach his brother and learning from the pack’s awesome guidance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Keith asked in between gulps of water during one of their breaks. “You know it’s okay if you’re not.”

“I’m  _fine_ ,” Shiro exasperated, and when Keith’s tail lashed expectantly, Shiro rolled his eyes. “Despite what you think, I never expected to see her again. And – And I knew she was never coming back for me. It’s just – I had one of those feelings. You just…know.”

Keith’s tail eventually came to rest upon his thigh, curling behind his knee, and he smacked his shoulder into Shiro’s. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. She can’t have you.”

That tugged a smile to Shiro’s lips. “Thanks, kid.”

They broke after the third varga, and even though Keith promised to stay by his side, Shiro urged him toward the mess to help making dinner as per routine. Shiro retired to his room to shower and change, and only managed to tug on a shirt and a pair of boxers when a secure transmission came through from the Blade. He accepted it immediately and warmed when Kolivan’s tense face greeted him.

“Taka, are you all right? Antok said you messaged.”

Shiro collapsed back to his seat at his desk, one leg hitched up on the cushion. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to check in and see – ”

“Is Keith all right?”

Shiro blinked, caught off guard, and took a moment to answer. “Yeah…? He seemed okay when we sparred earlier –”

“And the rest of your team?”

Shiro shrugged, still unsure why Kolivan flung so many questions at him. “Well, Pidge is working double-time trying to find her brother and father, now that she has a lead. And Lance and Keith are doing this awkward hormonal dance about each other. I’m not looking to giving them the safe sex talk. Hunk is the most adjusted, actually, though we need to go over some maneuvers in his lion since he was trained as an engineer.”

“So…all is well?”

A shoulder jerk. “Yeah, I guess…? I mean, no one’s burned down the castle yet, but the evening is young.”

Kolivan’s face smoothed and relaxed, and he leaned back in his chair with a knowing smirk. “Hm. It sounds like you have your claws full. Regretting taking custody of four cubs already?”

The sober words slipped from his mouth before he could stop them. “Did you ever regret taking Keith and me in?”

Though Kolivan tensed again, his reply came instantaneously. “No.”

“Oh, come on, Kolivan,” Shiro scoffed, dropping his leg to the ground to glare. “You can’t tell me you didn’t want to jettison me from the Blade at least once that first annual.”

“Jettison? No. Perhaps lock you away in your chambers, yes. I…” The steward leader struggled to find the appropriate wording. “…I  _worried_ over you. I still do, but that first year – I feared for your survival. You were not one of us at the time.”

“You can say it, Kolivan. You regarded me as a lower lifeform.”

“I will not. But…yes, I held ignorant beliefs, but even then – not once did I regret taking you in. You are pack.”  

His cheeks burned; his eyes diverted from Kolivan’s piercing gaze. “Keith and I – we weren’t easy.”

“No, you weren’t,” Kolivan relented. “At times, you were downright insufferable – but I enjoyed you and your brother. Perhaps if I had a regret, it would be that we did not find you sooner.”

Shiro shifted uncomfortably in the chair, bringing his legs underneath him, when Kolivan continued, firm but concerned, “Taka, why did you call me? What happened?”

“Nothing’s happened,” Shiro replied, smiling up with a rather open expression. “I just – I guess I just wanted to talk to you, Kolivan.”

The leader of the Blade of Marmora blinked, eyes blowing wide and mouth dropping agape, so Shiro found himself rubbing the back of his neck and rambling, “I’m…sorry if I bothered you or you’re busy. I’m sure Hunk and Keith are almost done with dinner, so I should probably go join them. I’ll leave you to –”

“It’s all right, Taka,” Kolivan soothed. “I’m free to talk. Always. You never need a reason.”

Shiro had known that, but sometimes the heart and the mind conflicted in what they believed. But hearing it from Kolivan calmed his frayed nerves and curbed his wild tongue, only for Kolivan to rile him up again.

“So when are you and Keith coming back to the base? It’s been almost three feebs since you’ve been home.”

He expected this from Ulaz, not from Kolivan. “Well, we’re working on freeing the Yingus Galaxy, so it might take a few more – ”

“Next week. The fourth quintaint.”

“I – I can’t make any promises, Kolivan. I don’t know what the princess has in mind for – ”

“Princess Allura can make wormholes in order to travel vast distances in a matter of moments,” Kolivan reminded with an admonishing tone. “You will be here on the fourth quintaint.”

Shiro learned long ago not to cross Kolivan and relented with a sigh. “Keith and I will be there on the fourth.”

“Good. Bring Lance. We can do the safe sex talk here.”

“Yeah? You’d do that for me?”

“Of course.” Kolivan’s face remained neutral, which only unnerved Shiro. “I never had the safe sex talk with you, either. Might as well get them all out of the way at once.”

That surprised a laugh from Shiro, a hearty, unbelievably cathartic roar that received a second wind when Kolivan added, monotoned, “I’m serious, Takashi.”

The irony was just too much for him, and yet he knew Kolivan was deadly serious. And that just made it all the more hysterical.

When he finally calmed down and Kolivan had managed a tiny smirk, Shiro murmured, “Kolivan…thank you. For everything.”

A beat. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“I have the primeval urge to ground you. Tell me why.”

Shiro growled through his clenched teeth and tipped his head back against the rest. “You can’t ground me. You’ve never been able to ground me.”

“You were sent to your room when you did things I did not approve.”

Shiro’s head snapped up; his eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about? There were times the lock to our quarters didn’t work, but that was only a few times a – quiznak! You locked me in my room!”

Kolivan shrugged. “Locked, sent – It was only a few hours each time. And mainly, I did it not when you misbehaved but when there was a mission I did not want to endeavor.”

“Keith and I aren’t coming on the next fourth quintaint.”

“Hm. So the pack will visit you on the castle-ship, then.”

“…is seven-thirty at the base a good time for you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moira's next. Haggar will be last - though I still have to write that one.


	21. Parental Unit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith see Moira again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon asks: For the Blade!Shiro universe: What happened to Shiro's birth mother? What happened to he and Keith's dad besides him becoming a drunk? Where did Keith's mom disappear to?
> 
> This was actually one of the first questions I got about the Blade!Shiro series, and I wrote a super long meta about it [here.](https://ptw30.tumblr.com/post/161939975074/for-the-bladeshiro-universe-what-happened-to) The question also inspired "Introduction to Galra Culture 102." :D But eventually, I decided to write a prompt where Shiro and Keith run into Moira again. 
> 
> Since Moira has been revealed as Krolia in Season 5, I've decided not to go through the entire story to change the name, but essentially, they are the same character.

Keith made sure to always have Takashi’s back during missions. His older brother tended to get himself into trouble, so much so that Keith was certain Allura’s hair wasn’t white from her genes but from Takashi’s “brave” antics. So Keith stayed close, always kept Shiro in his line of sight, and readied his bayard for any attacks.

He wasn’t a fan of this plan – sneak into the Galra Command Hub in Drule Central, steal a map of the empire, and sneak out with no one noticing. Sure, it all made sense in theory – knowing the Galra’s troop locations would allow the Voltron Force to strategize more effectively and target the most important sectors. However, something about the whole “let’s go right in the heart of the Galra Empire” just rubbed Keith the wrong way, but he couldn’t refute it. They needed this intel.

With Takashi’s hand upon the console and Pidge currently working on the download, there wasn’t really much for Keith to do but wait. And perhaps, that unhinged Keith the most. He always felt better when he could pound something.

A boot knocked against his own, and Keith glanced over his shoulder to see Takashi smiling back at him with an indulgent grin. “It’s almost done. Then we can get out of here.”

Was he really that transparent? Well, no one would never know him as well as Takashi.

And could you blame him worrying? He lost his brother for an annual and a half. He wouldn’t lose Takashi again.

Their helmets prevented Keith from reaching out and nuzzling Takashi’s jaw, but he could wrap his tail about his brother’s waist, which eased some of his discomfort.

Takashi laid a glove upon it, stroking it in a soothing rhythm. “Just a few more ticks.”

“Well, look what the lion dragged in…” a sinister voice echoed through the silent room, and Keith whirled toward the door to see three Galra fighters blocking their path. The middle one wore the garb of a high Galra commander, complete with red accents and glowing yellow eyes just above her chest area. Her long jet black hair tumbled halfway down her back in a fishtail braid, though her bangs curved about her cheeks in a familiar pattern.

Keith should know. His bangs fell the exact same way. Perhaps that was a trait of Galra women? But the ones at the Blade headquarters never looked quite like that.  

The commander’s stance intimidated, bringing Keith back to the present. She held a lance that glowed purple on both edge – the same color as Takashi’s arm when activated – and pointed it directly at Takashi and him.  

“When I present you to the emperor, try not to whimper too loudly,” she hissed, sharp teeth gleaming in an unveiled threat.

As Keith reluctantly uncurled his tail from his brother’s waist, Shiro disengaged his arm from the console and turned toward the Galra, body tensing for combat. Ironically, his voice carried a soft tenor. “You don’t want to do this.”

Keith spied his brother’s anxious gaze, and that worried him more than Takashi’s fury.

The Galra commander laughed. “Oh. Pray tell,  _Champion_ , why would I not wish to gift-wrap two Paladins of Voltron for my sire?”

Keith could give her a few choice reasons, starting with his bayard and ending with a massive red beast who could tear her apart, but Shiro continued, “You don’t want me to say anything in front of your two subordinates.”

Now the commander gripped her staff tighter, eyes narrowing as she glanced at the two lieutenants as her side. “I saw many of your matches, Champion, and was impressed by your ferocious nature. You disappoint me by attempting to appeal to my emotions.” She paused, waiting for Takashi to continue and when Takashi refused, demanded, “Tell me what you do not wish to say in front of an audience.”

Takashi’s gaze softened, tender and longing in a way Keith had seen only a few times before, and when he spoke, his raw voice barely crossed the distance to the Galra commander.

“It’s good to see you…Mom.”

Keith started.

_Mom?!_

The Galra held Takashi’s entire rapt gaze, so Keith swung to see the commander’s own distressed expression, her eyes blown wide, mouth parted in shock. Her edge of staff dangled just inches from the floor, trembling.

“Commander – ” one of the sentries prompted, and in a second’s time, the staff slammed into his head. She dropped to the floor and knocked out the second sentry’s legs. A single blow ended the fight.

The staff rang against the silent floor, and when the commander rushed Takashi, Keith took a step in front of his brother, only to be tossed to the side like a doll. By the time he recovered, Moira had Takashi pinned against the console. Towering over Keith’s rather tall older brother, she ripped off Takashi’s helmet to see his face. She ducked her snout to take two long inhales.

“…Takashi?” her wounded voice called, sounding frightened and unsure; tears shimmered on Takashi’s cheek.

“Hey, Mom,” he choked, and then the commander swept him up in a fierce embrace.

For a moment, the universe stopped. Keith’s breath caught in his throat, and he watched as the commander’s hand came up to cradle the back of Takashi’s head. Takashi’s face pressed naturally into her shoulder, his arms tight about her waist like a vice, and they stayed like that until Pidge’s frantic voice rang in Keith’s helmet.

“Keith! The download stopped, and I can’t reach Shiro. Are you guys okay?”

“We’re…” He watched as the commander pulled away, just slightly, to seize Takashi’s cheeks, offering him the traditional pack greeting. “We’re okay. We just met someone.”

“Who?” Lance demanded, jealous as ever.

Keith breathed, “My… _mom_ …I think…”

“What!” came everyone – from Allura on the castle ship to Hunk in the getaway lion.

“I’ll explain later.”

As he stepped forward, ready to interrupt, the commander tugged Takashi against her again, murmuring, “I attended the gladiator games. If I only would have known – ”

“Ulaz wanted to release me, but I promised Sendak – ”

Moira snarled, “Sendak!”

And that was Keith’s cue. “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to get the information and get out before we’re discovered – again.”

As soon both sets of eyes turned upon him, Keith gulped at the dual expressions of affection and sympathy. How was Shiro not part Galra, too?

Takashi reached out to him, lifting off Keith’s helmet, despite his sputtering protest. “Mom, it’s Keith. This is  _Keith_.”

In a blink, Keith found himself yanked into a smothering hold, the commander’s fur brushing across his jaw. “My cub. Oh, how you have grown.” A beat passed, then another, and Keith waited for the relief to hit, for the tears to overwhelm him after finally, finally finding his birth mother.

Instead, rage soared. The hands at his thighs trembled in tight fists, and as Moira whispered, “How are you not even taller than your brother?” Keith broke. 

_“Let go.”_

Moira stiffened, her claws tightening in his hair and upon his back before they slid down his arms and reluctantly released him.

“My cub – ”

“You might have given birth to me, but you are  _not_  my mother.”

Takashi stepped forward, hand coming to rest on Keith’s shoulder. “Keith – ”

“No. You-You  _left_  us.” Keith ignored Moira’s flinch and her eyes darkened and ears drooped – the way Takashi always said Keith’s did when he felt guilty. “I don’t care why. I don’t care that you’re here now. We went through hell because of you.”

Even if he hadn’t known at the time – Takashi suffered. Takashi gave everything for them to survive.

The hand on his shoulder tightened, desperate and pleading, and Takashi’s voice was pained. “It’s okay, Keith. Really. We made it. That’s all that matters.”

“But it’s not.” Keith glared up his brother, resentful and enraged before he saw the look of utter dismay in Takashi’s countenance. He released a sigh, though he refused to embrace Moira, who stared at him with a glistening expression of regret and sympathy. “If not for the Blade of Marmora, Takashi might have –  _we_  might not have made it. I can’t – I can’t forgive you.”

Moira’s claws reached out to him again before recoiling. “I would have given anything to have been there for you.”

“But you didn’t.”

The truth hung between them, painful and raw and true. There was nothing to say to make it better. Nothing to do but get the information and leave, no matter what Takashi wanted. He wouldn’t let the Galra Empire reclaim his brother, and if he had to pry Takashi away from Moira, he would do it by claw, by blade, by lion.

No one would ever harm Takashi again, and his tail wrapped about his brother’s waist again, tugging him close.

Takashi grunted in embarrassment, in alarm. Keith ignored him.

Something broken and devastated reformed in Moira’s gaze, and though it was tearful, her smile was bright and relieved. “I’m glad you had each other.”

That was probably the only thing they could agree upon.


	22. Great Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AKA How Haggar Became a Soccer Mom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nicki1253's prompt: Could you do a "what if" where Haggar is Shiro's biological mother? Your meta on it is fantastic and very interesting.
> 
> *blushes* OMG! You are so sweet! Thank you so much! I just love the idea of Shiro’s biological mom being Honerva, and I lament that I couldn’t get this to work in the “canon” storyline. But thank you for the prompt. It gave me the perfect excuse to explore this relationship.

In Honerva’s defense, it had been 10,000 years. And Ryou Shirogane was a specimen of the human species.

Science, Honerva told herself after she threw back a shot of tequila and gave the advancing human a teasing grin. As a one-time researcher for Altea and later the Galra Empire, she simply wanted to examine the way the human species procreated. The pleasure was a necessary albeit enjoyable component of the mating, and she had chosen well when she selected Ryou to be her experiment.

She was not expecting her once favorite drink to taste foul and the sudden bouts of nausea to consume her mornings. When she became a bit dizzy and a bit warm, one of her colleagues suggested she sniff ginger. She listened, another experiment, and when it helped, Rosa patted Honerva on the arm.

“It’s always the worst with the first ones.”

The first what? Honerva didn’t want to entertainment the reason. (She and Ryou used protection. They were careful.  _Honerva_  was careful. She simply could not have a child. Could she even carry the child? What if Lord Zarkon found out?)

She began to show three months after her night with Ryou.

Perhaps she should have told Ryou, but they weren’t in love. He was a tight, warm body she enjoyed for a night. She hadn’t meant for him to become the father of her child, and she certainly didn’t want him to be. Other options sprung to mind, but she ultimately dismissed them. Lotor had rested comfortably in the curve of her arm, snug and tucked against her bosom, but the boy hadn’t belonged to her. Honerva wondered what it would feel like to hold her own child, to know he belonged to her and only her, so she took care of her body and the baby within it. Diet and exercise, classes and rest. The nine months were the longest in her life for all the right reasons.

Inquisitive but dark eyes, like the thick clouds before a thunderstorm. Tiny black strands and golden skin. Her son was perfect in every way, and when Honerva caressed his head, kissed his pudgy cheeks, and heard his tiny cries, something in Honerva’s chest threatened to burst. Affection, her mind told her, for this tiny being that came from her lifeforce.

“Takashi,” she decided, meaning “noble, prosperous.” Her son would not be a prince here on Earth and most certainly wouldn’t join the Galra Empire, but he would do great things. That, Honerva could feel, though intuition had never been one of her strong suits. Research and rationale were her companions.

Takashi introduced Honerva to many things she never experienced before – patience, understanding, boxed macaroni and cheese, and sticky fingers. (Honerva might have banned jelly from her garrison apartment, but Takashi’s fingers still managed to grasp and stick to her arm.) She began to look forward to not only the data that came from her research of Earth and its quintessence but also the bright smile that greeted her in the daycare after she left the garrison lab. She found a way to perch Takashi on her hip and read a tablet at the same time, and for breakfast, she would skim her latest research results while Takashi played one of the many science and math games on his own.

(Honerva might have altered the programming of a few games to include equations and other forms of math that Earth had yet to discover. So what if her son advanced past Earthlings’ knowledge?)

Takashi called her “Mama” and fell asleep to the sound of Honerva reciting the periodically table. With Takashi’s eyes closed and his head rested against her chest, she marveled at the familiar curve of his nose and the similar golden tone of his skin. Her chest became tight, and her arms kept the boy close and secure against her, as if to shield him from the horror that lived just beyond the solar system.

Weekends were no longer spent in the lab but in the desert, taking Takashi on fantastic adventures. When he smiled, discovering a new flower or dashing about the rock formations, Honerva forgot about her mission, forgot about the Galra Empire and Zarkon and Voltron. Instead, she was a scientist and a mother – not necessarily in that order – and she was happy.  

But all good things ended, and Honerva awoke one morning to find Takashi standing before the sliding glass door of the living room. He stared out at the barren desert, shadows swallowing its massive hoodoos and plateaus. Takashi’s chubby little fingers left marks on the glass.

“It’s there, Mama,” he insisted. “We have to find it!”

Honerva laughed and ruffled her son’s hair. “Find what, Takashi?”

“Blue, Mama. She’s waiting for us!”

Honerva’s heart stopped. In Takashi’s five years, she’d never once mentioned her mission or Voltron. She made sure that anyone looking for the Blue Lion never had reason to seek Takashi.

Honerva dropped to her knees by Takashi’s side and snagged him by the shoulders. “Who told you about the lion? Who spoke to you, Takashi!”

Takashi’s eyes widened, frightened, and Honerva eased her grip.

“B-Black, Mama,” he said, soft and worrisome. “Black said we need to find Blue first.”

In her time living and undead, nothing prepared Honerva for the moment she realized her son was the next Black Paladin. She collapsed to the floor, back pressed against the pane-class window, and she coaxed Takashi into her lap. Takashi’s tiny hands covered her cheeks, and he beseeched in a low tone, “What’s wrong, Mama?”

The universe. The world. Voltron.

Honerva’s hands slid about her son’s waist and pulled him close, though he squirmed and shifted as any rambunctious child would.

Honerva eventually put Takashi to bed with the promise of seeking out the Blue Lion the next morning. She retreated to her bedroom, where she curled up on her bed. Ugly, frightened tears burned her cheeks and tore her heart, and she couldn’t figure out how she, a renowned research scientist from Altea, and Ryou, a drunk former commander on a primitive planet, managed to create the Black Paladin of New.

She eventually sought only one answer – why  _her_  son? Why not anyone else’s?

A mother always kept her promises, so Honerva took Takashi out into the desert. With her son safe between her arms on the hoverbike, they flew through the canyons and along the rivers. Takashi called out directions, and they found numerous caverns, decorated with carvings and messages about a mysterious Blue Lion. They spoke of an arrival that wasn’t to come for almost two decafeebs.

That gave Honerva time. She could lure Zarkon and the Galra Empire away from Earth. Her calculations, the Altean magic, the energy she felt – Earth was so primitive, its quintessence mirrored the Blue Lion’s, she could say. All she needed was to go back to Central Command and explain these “findings.”    

But she’d have to leave Takashi.

Perhaps the only thing more devastating than finding out her son was beckoned by the Black Lion, was never being able to see him again.

Ryou was easy enough to find in the desert, and though she had serious reservations about leaving the boy his father, Ryou would take better care of the child than Zarkon would take knowing a new Black Paladin had been born. When she said her goodbyes, she pulled the boy against her and muttered the only truth she’d ever known, “I love you, Takashi. You are my greatest finding.”

She taught him many things, the most of all – love.

In return, she could only give him a token of her affection – a necklace with his name upon it. She had wanted to give him more, and she wanted more – more bedtime stories and surprise kisses, raspberries and hugs, even sticky fingers. Oh, how she would miss his tiny fingers gripping her wrist and leaving jelly marks. But perhaps the intangible scars were the most painful.  

A decafeeb passed, then almost another. Haggar thought of her son daily, wondered how he appeared, all grown up on Earth. Had he joined the Galaxy Garrison? What field of study eventually stole every waking moment of his life? Had he married? Was she a grandmother yet?

Had the Black Lion beckoned?

She would know, Haggar believed. If the Black Lion returned, she would have felt its energy, but as of yet, not even Blue stirred. Haggar took simple relief in that truth, and as the annuals went by, slower than any she remembered, she counted off the Earth years of a human’s lifespan. It broke her heart – a hundred annuals, approximately, most likely less. After that, her son would be gone, but he would have hopefully lived a good life away from the horrors of the Galra Empire.

Then she walked into the interrogation chamber to see the rebel Lieutenant Haxus had mentioned and paused.

A human.

Stormy gray eyes. Hair as dark as the night. An intense, embittered expression, accented by the tiny bit of fear he held for his predicament. And a scar, slashed across his face in a barbaric display of possession.

Honerva didn’t need any confirmation, though her long, bony fingers reached out. The tips pressed against the cool, clammy skin, and the prisoner’s breath hitched. His eyes widened, but she persisted. The images came freely after she forced her way through the boy’s poorly constructed mental defenses.

Ryou helping a woman, a Galra. A commander. She stepped in, safeguarding Takashi, loving Takashi. A Galran cub, held tightly in Takashi’s grip. The Blue Lion’s cavern, the Faraway Systems, Puig. The Galran commander left to resume her command, and Ryou took his sons to Drule Central, left, and then –  _then_ – Honerva reeled back, her mind burning, heart weeping.

Her son. Takashi. What he had been forced to do,  _how_  he had been forced to survive – Honerva barely met those widened, trembling eyes before she quit the interrogation chamber. The nearest Druid approached, and she ordered him to watch the door and not allow anyone to see the prisoner.

Once she made it back to her lair, tears fell for the first time since she left Earth. Her son had finally made it back to her side, but the cost to his body, to his soul, was too much to bear. Yet in the brief time her magic touched him, she suffered his determined, stubborn, and righteous will. Takashi would not surrender to the Galra Empire or its emperor. Just like Zarkon would never submit. Black Paladins were cut from the same cloth – idiocy, it seemed.

After her tears dried and her heart hardened, Honerva planned. Zarkon could never know about this. He would first use Takashi to find all the lions and then kill her son once he had Voltron. But where to send Takashi? Back to the Faraway Systems? Sendak had already begun to conquer those, according to Takashi’s memories.

( _Sendak_ , she hissed. She would take care of that bastard after she saved her son. No matter what Takashi felt toward the commander, no one harmed her son and remained unscathed.)

A tiny voice in the back of Haggar’s mind chastised herself.  _You shouldn’t have left him._   _You should have stayed on Earth. Lied to Zarkon and said there was more to research. Refused to let Takashi anywhere near the Blue Lion._

But her past, her tenure at the Galaxy Garrison, her time as “Mama,” had always been fleeting. Haggar, Zarkon’s witch, was who she truly was, and there was only one solution, she knew. And it broke her heart all over again.

She siphoned the quintessence from each Druid in the corridors on her way to the interrogation chamber and blasted the technicians when she entered. Bones cracked; bodies reverberated against the wall. Haggar approached the table. Takashi’s eyes reflected of fear but also resignation, and Honerva placed her fingers once more on her son’s forehead.

She had been a willing accomplice and servant of the rift entities for more than 10,000 years. She deserved one gift, so she closed her eyes and reached out. Her soul touched the dark energy that came from the rift and sorted through the different timelines. She eventually found the one she wanted and with a gasp, absorbed all its memories.

In that reality, she never left Earth. In the Blue Lion’s cavern, she hugged her son, brushed the tears from his eyes when he spoke of the Black Lion, and brought him home, brought him back to the garrison. Where he grew. She celebrated every birthday, every milestone in Takashi’s life. She was there for his first day of school every year. There were drawings and tests on the fridge and pictures littering the apartment. Honerva wore a “Shiro’s Mama” sweatshirt at the soccer games, and Takashi studied taekwondo and waved up at her from the mat. They spoke about the Black Lion, and Takashi disappeared at times, into the “astral plane” he called it, to see his lion. There were smiles and laughter and tears, and Ryou had been a part of their lives from the start. Honerva told him about Takashi during her second trimester, and though there would never be anything between them romantically, she and Ryou treasured their son and formed a unique but strong family unit.

Everything wasn’t all stardust and comet ice. If Takashi left his clothes on the bathroom floor one more time or drank milk directly from the carton or Ancients forbid he did the dishes before they started growing his next science project –

But Honerva had never been prouder than the day Takashi donned his garrison uniform. He chose the route for pilots, for which she would also never forgive him, but her son needed to follow his own path. He was destined to do great things.

When he disappeared off Kerberos, Honerva went back to the empire, but after so many years away, Zarkon thought she suspicious. Takashi was freed by a Galran spy, a researcher named Ulaz, before she ever got to Takashi, but she eventually did. And Alfor’s daughter and his royal advisor. She joined the Voltron Coalition, and standing upon the castle-ship bridge with her son and her son’s brother, whom Takashi only just met but already shared a strong bond, Honevra smiled and again, was happy.

Haggar tore away from the other reality’s memories, tears streaking her cheeks. When she looked up at Takashi, his skin glistened as well.

“Mom…? Is that you?”

She released him from his chains and then released him from the ship, but not without throwing back her hood and cradling his face between her hands. “My son. Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too, Mom. Why are you here? Why – Why couldn’t you stay?”

After what Honerva saw, she no longer had a valid excuse. She had wanted to save her son but instead damned him to an insufferable existence.

“You cannot stay here,” she whispered. “You must flee. Now. Back to Earth and the Blue Lion.” And then Voltron. 

“Can’t you come, too?”

“No, Takashi. There is still something I must do, but I will always be with you, my child.” She pulled him down again to press a kiss to his forehead. “And you are always with me.”

It was hard to convince him to leave and even harder to watch him go, but once Takashi was clear, Haggar’s fingernails glowed. Anger surged through her body, and she stole the quintessence of every Galran soldier from the hanger to the command chamber.

Takashi was destined for great things. Honerva would make sure of it.


	23. Father and Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zarkon beckons Shiro to the astral plane for some father-son bonding time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eprime prompted:Zarkon redemption fic due to twu wuv. Zarkon/????
> 
> So…yeah. I was going to write a Zavlian piece - Zarkon and Kolivan - but then this happened. And – well, I’m not quite sure, but it’s true love - just not in a romantic sense. So…This takes place long after the Blade!Shiro ends but before Lotor is defeated. 

Shiro blinked as he walked upon the astral plane, the purple, transparent ground crunching under his boots. His lion greeted him almost instantly, brushing its head against his jaw in a tender greeting before pressing against him. Its massive tail wrapped about Shiro’s waist in a strong embrace.

Resting a hand upon the Black Lion’s head, Shiro threaded his fingers through its long mane, and the lion’s tail swiped up and down Shiro’s side, reciprocating the petting.

“What’d you bring me here?” Shiro murmured when the lion met his gaze. “Not that I’m complaining. You know I love to see you, but – is something wrong?”

The lion pressed its forehead against Shiro’s again, its chest rumbling with a soothing purr. The sound and motion immediately calmed Shiro, only for Black to unwind from his body and take off across the plane – toward Zarkon.

Zarkon approached in a leisurely stride and though a bit startled, accepted the lion’s enthusiastic greeting with a grunt and a soft admonishment.

“I missed you as well, Black. I cannot ask your forgiveness for the pain I caused you and our kin, but – allow me to express my regret.”

Shiro ached a bit as he watched Zarkon and the lion interact after more than ten thousand years of separation, but he hesitated to engage and distance them. Even as he watched their re-bonding, he realized this was not the Zarkon he’d come to know. This man with his yellow eyes and regal stride was not the dethroned emperor of the Galra Empire but the once proud and benevolent king of Daibazaal.

Once Zarkon saw Shiro, he ruffled his lion’s mane again and urged it to return to Shiro, which it did with a jaw swipe and an excited pant.

Shiro took strength from his lion and bowed his head. “King Zarkon…I’m… _sorry_ …for all that –”

“Your apologies are neither wanted nor warranted,” Zarkon explained in a firm tone. “Thank you for meeting me. I did not know if you would answer the beckon.”

Shiro blinked. It was Zarkon who brought him here? “Why did you send for me? What do you want?”

The  _from me_  was almost certainly heard by Zarkon.

The king nodded. “I understand your hesitation…Shiro, is it? Or do you prefer Takashi?”

Only Kolivan and Keith called him Takashi. “Shiro.”

“Shiro,” Zarkon acknowledged, “when the Black Lion teleported you to the other reality, it was an important first step to accepting your mantle as the Guardian Spirit of the Cosmos. But it’s not enough. You must master your abilities and help your fellow paladins unlock their powers to defeat not only Lotor but also the evil that destroyed on my home planet.”

“Why – Why are you helping me?” Shiro blurted. He all but banished the former emperor to this realm.

Zarkon smiled, his grin tender and affectionate. “You are Kolivan’s cub, which in a way, makes you mine as well.”

_Oh_. He – hadn’t really thought about that, even once he realized the true nature of Kolivan’s mating mark. If anything, he thought his closeness to Kolivan would anger the emperor. But instead, it endeared him to Zarkon?

“Should – Should we begin?” he managed to mutter.

Zarkon smiled, relief and genuine giddiness entering his gaze. He stepped forward. “Yes, we shall, Shiro.”

Shiro glanced away for a moment before gathering enough strength to respond, “Takashi.”

Zarkon blinked, obviously taken back, before his eyes softened even more. “Yes, thank you. Let’s begin… _Takashi_.” 


	24. A Formal Declaration of Pursuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sendak sends Shiro a formal invitation to dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon prompt: What if Sendak get Shiro a gift, something cute and Shiro-ish after a trip. While Kolivan is a little skeptic?
> 
> …I couldn’t think of anything cute for a gift. The closest I came was a fruit that would make humans…excited. So instead, I wrote this. #SorryActuallySorry

Shiro hadn’t expected Sendak to show up for his birth-quintant celebration. The commander currently worked alongside Lotor’s generals in order to secure the new emperor’s rule and certainly couldn’t be pulled away for something as frivolous as a party. As the Black Paladin of the universe’s greatest weapon, Shiro understood and enjoyed the company of the family who could attend – the paladins, his pack, Matt and the rebel commanders.

Shiro certainly hadn’t, by any stretch of the imagination, expected to receive a small envelope, accented with purple and silver writing.

“This is from Sendak,” Keith said as he wrung the back of his neck. “He left this the last time he came to the castle-ship.”

Shiro accepted the gift with a swipe of Keith’s crown and slipped his fingers under the crease. When he opened the envelope, the smell of lemongrass and stardust greeted him – Sendak’s unique scent. He smiled despite himself, knowing his friends and family watched with bated breath – especially Kolivan, who wore a condemning scowl.

 A single-sided card was the only contents. The same elegant script and color scheme greeted him, along with a personalized note. He refused to read the card aloud, and his heart would probably have stopped right then and there from embarrassment if he had. Heat rushed to his cheeks, and thankfully, no one – not even Lance – called him out on it. He simply read and tucked the note back into the envelope.

“What did it say?” Kolivan demanded, but Shiro couldn’t repeat it.

“Nothing important. Just some well wishes.”

“And you routinely blush from the well wishes of others?”

Sometimes, Shiro liked to keep his nerve and a shred of integrity. Other times – “He likened my ass to the Kral Zera, and he believes himself to be the one to light it.”

Kolivan remained silent, though his scowl darkened. Keith cringed while Lance laughed himself right off his chair. With red-tipped ears, Shiro recommenced opening his presents.

After the rebels left, the paladins and Blades returned to their quarters on the castle-ship, but Shiro showered. He shaved, blow-dried his hair, and pulled on fresh armor. When he finally appeared presentable, he went to Black. The lion lowered his head to allow Shiro entrance and then took off before anyone was the wiser.

Black purred in the back of his mind, a warning of sorts, and Shiro shifted in his chair to see the door open to the cockpit. “What are you doing here?”

Kolivan entered and leaned upon Black’s side console. “I do not trust Sendak, Taka.”

“We’ve been through – ”

“He is a commander of the empire, and you are the Black Paladin and decisive head of Voltron. It is a most unusual union.”

“Says the Galran clan leader who bears the mating mark of the one-time emperor.”

Kolivan remained still, though Shiro could practically feel the dark glare aimed at the back of his head.

“He has done nothing but supported the Coalition,  _me_. When will it be enough for you?”

“You are compromised by your physical and emotional inclinations,” Kolivan said, “so I must be wary in your stead.”

Shiro blinked and gave his head one quick shake. “Did you seriously just say I don’t look out for myself because I want to get laid?”

“If you must be crass, then yes.”

Shiro rolled his eyes and wondered if he could make Kolivan wait the rest of the journey in Black’s bowels.

The trip took less than a varga. Sendak chose a vibrant planet, ripe with exotic flowers and vines and foods. Shiro lowered Black onto a cliff overlooking the mystical backdrop, where the commander waited. The utterly magical sunset of dual stars – one purple, one blue – wasn’t what took Shiro’s breath away, however. It was Sendak, who stood before a clothed table decorated with shimmering plate-covers, burning candles, and chilling wine. Instead of his usual commander garb, Sendak wore a formal outfit with a long coat that hung below his waist, a regular-sized gauntlet for his hand, and a natural but awestruck smile.

Even after everything they had been through, Shiro’s heart fluttered under that heated gaze, and he wondered if he would ever be able to look at Sendak and not lose his breath.

“You sure know how to pick them,” Shiro said as he approached.  

Sendak’s purr was deep and throaty. “Yes, I do.”

“I meant the setting.”

“I know you did. I did not.”

Shiro dropped his helmet to the table, wishing he still had it on to hide his burning ears. “We have a chaperone.”

Sendak turned them to see Kolivan standing just in front of the Black Lion’s open mouth. His feet were set, arms crossed, not pleased at all with the set-up, but Sendak acknowledged him with a dip of his chin.

“I thought your pack leader would be pleased,” he said, loud enough for Kolivan to hear. “We never went through the courting procedures as per Galra traditions, so I wanted to treat you to such. Give you the proper greetings and advances.”

When Kolivan neared, he continued, “You received a formal declaration of pursuit from Lord Zarkon when you were chosen by the Marmora Clan to be its leader’s successor. I thought to do the same for Takashi.”

There was no mistaking the intent, especially when Shiro lifted up the plate covers to find macaroni and cheese, garlic knots, and on a third plate, small red candies that with one taste, had Shiro’s eyes wide and shocked.

Swedish Fish.

Kolivan’s glare never wavered as he surveyed Sendak. When he finally made a decision, he looked at Shiro with an infinitesimal sigh. “I will be in your lion.”

Behind Kolivan’s retreating back, Shiro cocked a smile and winked at Sendak. They kept a respectable shoulder-width apart before the ramp to Black closed. Then, with a burst of propulsion, the mighty beast launched itself toward the cosmos.

Sendak was still watching the lion get smaller and smaller when Shiro wrapped his arms about the commander’s waist and tugged him close. “Jacket and shirt off –  _now_.”

A small crease formed between Sendak’s eyes, and Shiro answered before Sendak could ask, “Black needs me for power. We only have a varga or two at the most before he’ll have to land again.”

Sendak never shed his clothes faster.


	25. Quintessence Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [guardianofsillvennium](https://guardianofsillvennium.tumblr.com/): I have a prompt. Writing how Shiro got his inking! You explained WHY he got it but never HOW he got a tattoo of pure quintessence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The “Scar Tissue” epilogue originally had a scene about Shiro getting his inking, but the first version wasn’t very…emotional. So I ended up deleting it and writing about Shiro asking Kolivan to become Galran since I felt the conversation and Shiro’s request had more angst than the act itself - or how I originally wrote it, at least. 
> 
> I went to see if I could find the first version of this, but I couldn’t. And I’m glad because it allowed me to use elements of Season 5. *high-five*

The Archivist was not loyal to the empire but to its history, which was why when Kolivan, the leader of the Blade of Marmora and the once proud Marmora Clan, stepped onto Feyiv, the Archivist greeted him with open arms.

The pack made the trip together, including Keith, but even with all their masks raised, the Archivist sensed Shiro was the one who had come to be judged.

“You know the consequences of not being deemed worthy, Kolivan,” the Archivist warned with little concern for Shiro himself. “He will be burned alive by the eternal flame.”

Shiro froze.  _That_ , Kolivan never brought up in their conversations. Other than a bow of his head and a sharp glance back at Shiro, Kolivan showed no other hesitation.

“He is strong enough.”

The Archivist placed his bony hand upon Kolivan’s shoulder. “You pray he will be.” To Shiro, the Archivist gestured. “Come. It is time to realize your fate.”

Shiro followed the Archivist up the Grand Staircase of Feyiv, leading the procession of Blades. When they reached the top and the pool of indigo flames, the Archivist commanded Shiro strip to his waist. When he finished, Kolivan’s massive claws clasped Shiro’s pale shoulders 

“Speak the truth. That is all they want to know.”

Before Shiro could ask who “they” were, the Archivist instructed Kolivan to back away and Shiro to kneel before the eternal flame.

The cool, gentle breeze ruffled Shiro’s hair and sent shivers down his spine, but he kept still as his pack ringed about him. They served at protectors, as witnesses, as supporters. The Archivist produced a glowing indigo quill and with it, drew a thin string of aqua quintessence from each pack member’s chest. Along with the eternal flame, the quill created a violet ink of pure power.  

Shiro gasped but bit his tongue when the pen’s tip touched his right shoulder. A cool, tingling sensation followed the quill’s patient but flowing strokes. For being as old as the empire itself, the Archivist had a surprisingly firm hand.

Shiro stared straight ahead, eyes firm and unmoving as the quill’s sensation grew from tingling embers to an all-out burning fury. His mouth opened to let out of a shrill shout, but nothing sounded as the eternal flames jumped from the pool and engulfed Shiro completely.

When he opened his eyes, Shiro found himself standing in an indigo-black expanse of space. It reminded him of the astral plane with sparkling stars swirling overhead and a dark, violet-laced moon. Something shifted behind him, and he quickly swung to come eyes to chest with a large breast plate. Dual yellow eyes stared back at him, and when he raised his chin, he found himself on the receiving end of an embitter glower.

The lizard-like female Galran stood close to eight feet tall with glowing yellow eyes, violet irises, and a dark countenance. Purple ridges crawled down the back of her head, leading to a tight braid, while sharp muscles made her shoulders wide and broad. Her waist was lean, thighs defined and massive. Beyond her, more Galran warriors waited.

“You believe yourself worthy to join the Galra Empire?” she – the first empress – demanded.

The right answer weighed heavily upon his tongue, but he refused to speak it. Instead, he listened to Kolivan’s advice.

“No. I seek to  _end_  the Galra Empire. There should have never been an empire to begin with. The power should always be in the hands of the people, not one invincible force.”

“Then why have you come?” an emperor yelled from the crowd.

Shiro raised his voice just loud enough to be heard. “Because I wish to become a member of the Galra nation, a people who have come together not by blood but by bonds stronger than any physical connection. They have been bound together for hundreds of thousands of years – yes as part of the empire but also as a people who have withstood their own subjugation and wish to be freed. They are whom I wish to embrace – my pack, my family.”

The empress seemed pleased, though he knelt by her feet and hunched his shoulders in respect. Indigo fire surrounded him, and the empress’s massive claws cradled his cheeks.

“Then come forth, and do so, cub. You are worthy.”

When she took him into her arms, the empress bathed him in the indigo fire of the eternal flame.

A scream of utter terror and agony tore his throat raw as Shiro returned to Feyiv, and he tumbled forward until he rested upon hands before him. Hands crowded him then; Keith’s desperate pleas demanded he answer.

Shiro put his hand on his little brother’s hood and looked up as the Archivist approached. The Galran said nothing, just looped the quill about Shiro’s shoulder again. He tied the quintessence trails in a knot, linking Shiro once more to his pack. Instead of the ties being cut, they simply faded.

Shiro glanced down and saw the deep rich indigo inking glowing bright and beautiful against the brilliant void of space. It wasn’t the shape of the empire’s insignia but in the same curve of the Blade of the Marmora, of his people. 


	26. AU - Skyway to Nowhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from [eastofthemoon:](http://eastofthemoon.tumblr.com/) Blade!Shiro question, if Ulaz hadn't found Shiro and Keith, would Shiro have gone back to Sendak or continue to stay away from him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eventually, yes. Shiro would have gone back to Sendak because Keith was sick, and he would do anything for Keith, even return to the person who harmed him in order to save his little brother. But before Shiro could have gone back to Sendak -

After the Galra officer refuses Shiro’s services, Shiro returns to his brother’s side, resting a hand upon the half-breed’s back. Keith’s breathing has become labored in his absence, wet and loud. He’s feverish, mumbling in his sleep and hot,  _too_  hot. Shiro struggles to find options. Trembling fingers sink into his hair and grip, and Shiro ducks his head. A hand reaches into his chest, closing about his heart.

He leans forward, resting his elbows upon his thighs when a being settles next to him. The dark cargo pants leading to leather-clad feet draw Shiro’s attention, but he refuses to look up at the Galra next to him, refuses to acknowledge this presence. Only after sharp claws slide over the raised skin on his nose, does Shiro jerk up and glare at the solemn commander. 

“What are you doing here?”

Sendak’s eyes narrow before they run over Shiro’s disheveled appearance. “One of my subordinates informed me you were here.” He glances about Shiro, though the human shifts to place himself between Sendak’s gaze and his brother.

Sendak lifts his hands in a non-threatening manner. “The cub needs medical attention.”

“I have it handled.”

“By propositioning every Galra officer on the skyway?”

Shiro winces but rebounds. “I don’t need your-your… _help_.”

“And what do you plan to do?” Sendak asks, deep voice rumbling in a calm address. “Without me, your cub will dle.”

Shiro flinches as if hit.

“You cannot tell me your foolish pride will prevent your cub from receiving the attention he needs.” Sendak’s claws drag up Shiro’s naked bicep in a comforting caress, though Shiro trembles. The commander reclaims his claws. “I will see to Keith’s – ”

“You scarred my face,” Shiro accuses, shame and frustration rising within him. “You tried to keep me as your-your – ”

“ – mate,” Sendak responds, unabashed. “Yes. Anyone who sees you will know immediately that you are taken.”  _That you are mine._

Shiro snarls, “You don’t own me.”

“And so you left to prove your independence,” Sendak surmises, motioning to the mumbling cub once more. “How are you doing?”

Shiro debates flipping Sendak off, though he doubts the commander knows what the gesture means.

“Why do you fight it?” Sendak murmurs, soft and comforting. His hand drops to Shiro’s and slots their fingers together. “Rely upon me, Takashi.”

“And what will you demand from me this time?” he accuses; he shivers.  

“Your presence, that is all. One day, perhaps your affection.”

That’s all? “But why?” No, that wasn’t really what bothered Shiro the most.  _“Why me?”_

“Do you not know?” Sendak whispered, close enough to Shiro’s lips for the young human to feel the the commander’s intense heat. “Galra mate for life.”

Shiro’s eyes blow wide, his mouth drops, unable to hide his shock this time. And unlike anything Shiro has seen prior, a faint blush darkens Sendak’s cheeks. The commander fidgets with his leather jacket before he stands, and this time, Shiro doesn’t stop Sendak. The Galra heaves Keith into his massive arms, laying the cub’s head against his shoulder and cradling it as a father would a son’s. 

Shiro hurries to his side, hand immediately dipping into Keith’s sodden strands. “No more marking,” he demands, leaning against Sendak’s side. He risks a glance to see Sendak’s enthralled gaze. “Not without my permission.”

Sendak nods. “All right.”

Then, safekeeping Keith’s bottom with one of his large claws, he reaches for Shiro with the other, and the young human accepts it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> – Sendak would have come for Shiro.


	27. AU - His Majesty’s Consort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from Anon: Just finished season five. I am now imagining your blade shiro au where sendak kept Shiro as his mate. (Keith escaped/ran away to the blade) sendak bringing home Lotor as a slave like he threatened. Lotor forced to serve Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Discussions of slavery; references to sex
> 
> From the “Shiro stayed with Sendak” collection of the Blade!Shiro series…so I made Keith one of Lotor's generals and a Blade, as per an earlier prompt-fill.

Shiro found no difference between the imperial complex in Drule Central and Central Command. Following the lighting of the eternal flame at Kral Zera, Lord Sendak took the throne and Shiro received his first official title in the empire, “His Majesty’s Consort.” At Sendak’s side, he remained silent, hands cupped before him, chin raised high to meet any resistance to a lower lifeform holding such a privileged position.

He met little.

After he killed an assassin who snuck inside the royal chambers, breaking the Galran’s neck and leaving him on the floor for the sentries to clean, few dared to meet his gaze, let alone voice their opinions of his status. Instead, Shiro filled the day by planning the necessary galas and meetings, setting up the schedule for the gladiator arena, and tending to the emperor’s home.

Because of his upbringing and the struggles he met in the empire, Shiro never needed nor expected Sendak to present him with the gift of a personal slave, especially one in the form of the one-time prince of the Galra Empire. But he also knew better than to refuse a gift from the newly crowned emperor of the Galra Empire.

“Lotor is yours to do as you wish,” Sendak said before leaving the personal quarters for a meeting with his commanders.

Shiro sucked in a deep breath and glanced down at the prince who knelt, hands bound, sentry keeping pinned on the floor with a hand upon his shoulder.

“Do not believe I will stay on my knees,” the prince sneered the moment they were alone. “I bite.”

Shiro crossed his arms and frowned. “You do realize my mate is eight feet tall and endowed in many ways.”

“You – and he… _actually_ …?” The wondering question hung between, and Shiro rolled his eyes.

“We are partners, your highness, in all ways.”

“You are a lower lifeform, his  _property_.”

“I am his mate and the royal consort,” Shiro affirmed, tone crisp to command as one in his position should. “I will treat you with the respect of your title, your highness. I request you do the same.”

Lotor was not fooled. “So you say as I kneel before you.”

“Yes, you are correct. Allow me to rectify that.” Shiro motioned for the sentry to release Lotor and waited for him to stand before reaching for the cuffs about the prince’s wrists. “I am sorry, but you’ll have to remain in your quarters for some time. When it is time, I will come for you.”

“Time? Time to do what? For me to make your bed or warm it?”

Shiro sighed and shook his head. “Again, I will treat you with the respect you deserve. I request you do the same.”

The sentry led Lotor out of the royal quarters, and Shiro guessed the prince behaved because there was no way Lotor would escape Central Command and live. Shiro wasn’t even sure the prince wanted that, but he could discuss the future with Lotor later. He went about his duties as needed, meeting Sendak for breakfast and dinner, but the new emperor generally tolerated a working lunch. Shiro decided to start taking his in Lotor’s quarters. The prince feigned pleasantries well, though within a movement of his enslavement, he became anxious.

Shiro decided the best he could do was offer the prince an outlet for his frustration – perhaps a few rounds on the training deck – when Lotor finally exploded.

“Why are you doing this? So when you eventually decide to assert your dominance over me, you will have won yourself a prized and pampered pet to complete your dirty work?”

Shiro blinked. “I do not wish to  _win_  you over, your highness. I am simply regarding you as I should.”

“I am your slave!”

“You are the prince of the empire.”

“ _Was_  the prince, and I am now nothing more than the treasured  _pet_ of a lower lifeform who parades himself about like the royal consort.”

Shiro snorted. “ ‘Treasured’ is a bit of a stretch. And I certainly do not  _parade_.”

Lotor blinked, caught off guard, before he let out a rich if breathless laugh. When he finally calmed himself, he shook his head. “You are not how I envisioned.”

“You are exactly as I had heard.”

Lotor jerked. “Heard? I do not understand.”

Shiro snatched a handful of grapes and headed toward the chambers’ exit. “It is difficult being anything but Galra in the empire, your highness, but perhaps it is easier for someone with an official title. And a person who uses that privilege to help others – he deserves both loyalty and kindness.”

The prince’s neutral expression gave away nothing. “You know not of what you speak.”

“I know your generals are all half-breeds,” Shiro said with a tiny smile, “and I know you do not revere them as such. Perhaps one quintaint, you will not revere me as a lower lifeform, as well.”

After that, lunches became carefree, friendly exchanges with Lotor, and Shiro enjoyed the company.  A sense of camaraderie, if not true friendship, developed, and they eventually led into sparring sessions and discussions about diplomacy. Shiro asked Lotor’s opinions on certain matters of state and accepted his snide comments about Sendak’s body and killer abs. Shiro agreed with those, of course.

Eventually, Shiro received word of an unscheduled transport, and he went to retrieve Lotor. Cameras went dark and sentries powered down, and Shiro led Lotor through the deserted halls toward the hanger.

“I do not understand,” Lotor said, anxious, even though he followed Shiro without hesitation. “Why are you helping me escape?”

“Your generals are all half-breeds.”

“We established that, yes. It is not a secret.”

“You’ve never asked them about their non-Galran parentage?”

“Of course, I have. I know of my generals and the families they were forced to leave behind to serve me, but that doesn’t answer my –” Lotor stopped just before the entrance to the hanger, shock and perhaps a bit of awe paling his features. His voice sounded lofty and faraway when he spoke. “You are Keith’s brother, the human chosen to be a commander’s mate.”

When the doors open to the hanger, a Blade waited on bended knee, fist to his chest. “My prince.”

Shiro regarded Lotor with a glower. “Go. Now, before the guards discover what I’ve done.”

Lotor walked over to the kneeling Blade and touched his shoulder, allowing him to stand. For the second time in as many clicks, the prince was overwhelmed. Keith released his mask and pushed back to his hood, and the prince swayed. Keith caught his wrist, and Lotor immediately pulled him into a quick embrace.

“You are all right,” he murmured into Keith’s hair, relief filling his words. “I feared for you after the Kral Zera. I thought – I did not know what had happened to you.”

Keith hesitated but eventually returned the embrace, just as strongly. “I will never leave you willingly, my prince.”

Shiro hated to break up the reunion – he owed Lotor as much as Sendak for his brother’s life – but their time was short. “You have to go.  _Now_.”

“What of you, your highness?” Lotor asked, turning from Keith. “I cannot leave you here to suffer the fate of – ”

“– a treasured pet belonging to the emperor of the universe?” Somehow, it didn’t hurt as much when he said it. “I made my choice annuals ago, your highness. I do not regret it. Good luck to you.”

He accepted the grip, wrist to forearm, then leaned over to kiss his brother’s forehead. “I’ll see you next movement.”

Shiro turned and left, hitting close the hanger doors. When he arrived back in his chambers, he wasn’t surprised to find Sendak waiting.

“You released your slave.”

“There’s an old Earth saying.” Shiro unclipped his breast plate and let it drop to the floor. “If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, they’re yours; if they don’t, they never were.”

“Hm.” Sendak’s rumble vibrated against Shiro as the emperor cant his hips and accepted his mate. “Are you asking to be set free, Takashi?”

“No, my lord.” Shiro rested his hands upon the emperor’s warm and heaving chest. “After all, you’ve done that once and came looking for me.”

“And I would again.” Sendak rested his claws upon Shiro’s hips, pulling him even closer. “There is absolutely no where you could hide from me. The universe is mine and everything within it – including you.”

Pushing up on his toes, Shiro admitted, “ _Especially_  me.”

Sendak lowered his head to nuzzle against Shiro’s cheek and murmur, “You know Lotor is never coming back.”

Shiro sighed and relaxed in his mate’s hold. Unfortunately, Shiro knew Sendak was wrong, though he wanted, with all his heart, for the newly coronated emperor to be right.


	28. Whole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Pidge and Hunk meet Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little background on this - I didn’t write a meeting between Keith, Hunk, and Pidge because it would have followed a similar storyline from “The Rise of Voltron.” It didn’t forward the plot of Blade!Shiro in the same way Lance and Keith’s scene did.
> 
> In order to make this side story a bit more engaging, I took a few liberties. In the Blade!Shiro interlude, I wrote that Lance had already met Blue - saw her, sat in her, had sleepovers in her cockpit, more or less - but in order for Hunk and Pidge to do something other than shake hands and gape at Galra!Keith, I decided to make the literal “I met Blue” into “Hey, I met Blue in a metaphysical way like Shiro met Black on the astral plane.”
> 
> I think that also adds a bit of depth to the lions and paladin bond, which I really like. (And then Shiro isn’t the only paladin to get metaphysical hugs from his lion. :DDDDDDDDDDDDDD) So thanks for this prompt!

Pidge had been staked out on the top of Galaxy Garrison’s main building, surrounded by her homemade gear, for months, scanning to the far edges of the universe for the lost Kerberos mission crew. She hadn’t wanted to give up the search, even for one night, but Lance lured her to the hanger with the promise of helping her find the missing team. He hadn’t lied. Keith would help her find her family. Lance was sure of it.

Dirt kicked up behind the hoverbike as they skimmed over the desert floor and soared through the hollowed canyon. The cool air burned Lance’s cheeks red, but he persisted, thankful that both Pidge and Hunk wore long-sleeved shirts. Perhaps he should have been warned them, but there hadn’t been time.

As he entered some invisible radius, warmth kindled in his chest once more, familiar and kind and fierce, and Lance let out the tiny breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Behind him, he heard both Pidge and Hunk gasp as the sensation hit them, too, but unlike him, they weren’t prepared for another piece of their fractured souls to snap into place.

When he pulled up to the shack, Pidge wondered out loud, “What was that?”

“Keith.” Lance allowed that to serve as the only answer and slid off the bike’s seat.

“Look, no offense, Lance, you know I trust you,” Hunk began, forefingers pressed together in his nervous tell, “but you’ve got to give us more than that. Just who is this Keith you keep talking about?”

“And how can he help me find my family?” Pidge added.

Lance let out an exaggerated sigh, eyes never diverting from the glowing shack that burned like a beacon in the still and shadowed desert. He quickly recounted Keith’s lineage and the Galra Empire, and how the Blade might be able to locate her family. Pidge’s hands balled at her side, trembling with rage.

“Are you freakin’ kidding me? You dragged me out into the middle of nowhere with the promise to find the Kerberos crew and your answer is  _aliens_? You really expect me to believe that?”

Lance sighed, helpless, but Hunk stepped in. “He’s not lying, Pidge.”

“Don’t tell me you believe him, Hunk! Aliens! I know they exist, but you can’t tell me this _Keith_ – ”

“ – is not the only alien here,” Lance replied, and he closed his eyes, focusing on his core energy. It was easier to wear his human form now, rather than his original one, but eventually his markings and pointed ears, along with his ruffle of white hair, emerged.

Pidge’s mouth opened, closed, and then opened again. After a few quiet moments, her scowl returned. It wasn’t focused on Lance, however.

“You knew about this?” she yelled at Hunk.

Hunk shrugged with a slight rosy tint to his cheeks. “Well, yeah. Lance is my roommate. I walked in on him one time wearing purple fur and glowing amber eyes – which by the way, I still don’t understand why you wanted to look like a large purple cat.”

Lance let out a strained whine as he drudged toward the shack. “Hunk, do not bring up inside.”

The shack initially appeared empty when they entered, but Lance still felt Keith’s fiery presence. Once Hunk and Pidge stepped into the middle of the shack, the door slammed shut behind them. Keith waited, tail lashing, amber eyes glowing, awakened sword in his palm.

“Is this them?” he asked, resolute.

Lance didn’t even try to suppress his eye-roll. “No. I randomly pick up strangers who happen to complete your soul. What do you think?”

Keith blinked and straightened his back, hand slowly sheathing his knife behind his back. “I – I think these are the other – ”

“Yes, it’s them!”

“Why are we here?” Pidge asked without pretense. “Lance said you could help me find my family.”

As Keith passed between her and Hunk, his eyes flashed to Lance’s with a wordless question. Lance shrugged. “Her family was taken off Kerberos not too long ago.”

“How’d – How’d you know my dad and brother were – ”

“You look like a mini-me version of Matt Holt,” Hunk said, reaching for Keith’s lashing tail. “Seriously, how Iverson couldn’t tell is just – hey!”

Keith pulled his tail away from where it slapped Hunk’s hand. “Do you mind?”

“You can’t fault me. You have a tail! Hey, can I scratch behind your ears?”

Keith blinked; his ear flicked before he turned to Lance, completely unnerved.

Lance responded with a sheepish smile and an off-handed shrug. “They come with the whole Voltron package.”

Keith rolled his eyes and retreated to the cork board that spread across most of the far wall. A small kitchenette, some radio equipment, a beat-up old couch, and a coffee table crowded the rest of the shack, not allowing for much movement. Lance still couldn’t believe Keith lived out here by himself for the last few movements, but then again, Lance had been bringing him the essentials – water, food, clean clothes. Even now, Keith wore one of Lance’s old T-shirts and a hoodie. Keith had to cut a hole in the back of the jeans to let his tail out, and Lance couldn’t get enough of that adorable sight.

Pidge followed Keith’s gaze, eyes running over the various photos, notes, and maps, attached by strings, that littered the board.  

“Voltron?” she echoed, in awe, and Lance smiled. The first time he heard the word, his lion had thrummed his soul’s chord, too. “What – What is  _that?”_

Lance shared a quick, knowing glance with Keith before launching into a full explanation – the universe’s greatest weapon, built by his father. Five lions, sentient beings, each choosing a paladin. Five becoming one.

In the wake of his words, silence reigned. The Voltron bond was fresh and still forming in ways they couldn't truly understand, so Lance hadn’t expected the hesitant realization that came from Hunk.

“We’re missing…someone?”

Lance felt the soul-sucking void in the middle of his chest, a place that only Shiro could fill, but Hunk and Pidge had never met Shiro. How could they already feel it?

“My brother, Takashi,” Keith supplied.

“ _Shiro_ ,” Lance replied. “He goes by Shiro, and he’s the Black Paladin, the leader of Voltron.”

Pidge gripped the straps of her bookbag. “Where is he now?”

Keith’s amber eyes drifted to a certain faded photo in the corner of the board. A beaming tween sat cross-legged on the floor, hugging a swaddled kitten in his arms. Lance’s heart ached with his and Keith’s shared pain, and not for the first time, he missed his older sister.

Pidge, the epitome of tact. “You look nothing like each other.”

“We have the same dad, different mom.”

“No kidding,” Hunk laughed, but Keith huffed, shoulders hunching and ears pressed back like a hissing cat.

Lance took the hint and stepped in between. “Look, we need your help, guys. Shiro is being held captive by some really nasty people, and those same people are coming for the Blue Lion of Voltron. It’s here, on Earth.”

“My brother used to sleepwalk to these caves,” Keith said, motioning toward a few photos with lion carvings. “I think the Blue Lion is around there, but we have no way to find it.”

“It calls to me.” In a burst of sparkles, Lance held a blue bayard in his hand. “It – Its spirit talks to me all the time, but it’s especially powerful in water.” He wouldn’t go so far as to explain how every time he stepped in a pool or the ocean, a cool, soothing presence pressed against his forehead and rubbed against his side. He definitely wouldn’t tell them how the lion would manifest into a solid, water-based being when no one else was around and smile at him. “It wants me to find it.”

“And we have to before the Galra do,” Keith added, crossing his arms.

A few slow ticks past as Hunk and Pidge seemed to process everything. Lance readied himself to talk about what the Galra did to Altea and his family, why he was on Earth and how he knew Keith and Shiro. He braced himself for the inevitable heartbreak of having to speak of the unspeakable, knowing neither Pidge nor Hunk would shun him for it, but he didn’t have to.

Hunk motioned toward Pidge. “Well, I was reading Pidge’s diary – ”

“What!”

“Hey, would it hurt you to carry a candy bar? Anyway, I noticed the repeating series of numbers the aliens are searching for looks a lot like a Fraunhofer line.”

Of course Keith wouldn’t understand. “Frown who?”

“It’s a number describing the emission spectrum of an element. Only this element doesn’t exist on Earth. I think it might be this Voltron. I think I can build a machine to look for it, like a Voltron Geiger counter.”

Lance threw his arms around his best friend. “Hunk, you big gassy genius!”

Sure enough, Hunk and Pidge’s device led to them through the desert terrain and into the caves, though it wasn’t one Lance remembered from Keith’s photos. He diverted to the far wall and swiped his hand along the carvings, letting out a gasp when they glowed the same bright blue as his father’s magic.

“They’ve never done that before,” Keith said before the ground gave way underneath them, literally.

Sliding down a shoot, Lance landed face-first in a large puddle, Keith next to him. An excited energy crept up his spine and brushed against his hip and cheek, and when he lifted his eyes, he found himself staring into the eyes of the other half of his soul.

“Blue…”

While Keith placed his hands flush upon the particular barrier, Lance cocked his head to the side and mused, “Hey, Beautiful. Good to see you.” A simple knock brought the barrier and Blue’s head down.

Lance smirked and raced up her lowered ramp, sighing contently as finally, after all these annuals, he took a seat in the pilot’s chair. Blue purred happily in the back of his mind, her presence washing over him like a cresting wave, and he reveled in her embrace – until the seat slid forward. Blue’s screens flared to life. The cavern came into focus through Blue’s eyes, waterfall shimmering in the light Blue emitted, and Lance lifted his hands to rest upon the controls.

 _Stay_. Blue’s voice echoed in the back of his mind.  _Wait_.

_For what?_

_Paladin_.

Lance fought the sudden pain that tore through his chest. Blue couldn’t have meant another paladin for her. She’d chosen Lance, washed his bayard up on Varadero Beach for him to take. She helped him to focus his powers, to stop bursting pipes wherever he went. She soothed him through the grief of losing Shiro and Keith. Though he loved his Earth family with all his heart and would always cherish them as his, he wasn’t complete without the other paladins.

“So…where do we take this thing?”

Lance jumped, shocked to find Pidge on his right, ogling Blue’s interior consoles. Hunk stood on his left, while Keith gripped the back of the pilot’s chair.

Though it took all his strength, Lance lifted his hands off the controls. “We can’t go yet. Blue says we’re missing something.”

“What?” Keith asked.

Lance glanced over his shoulder. “The last piece of our souls.”

They left Blue, who caressed Lance’s hip even as he exited her jowls. Lance, Hunk, and Pidge didn’t return to the garrison. Instead, they camped out in Keith’s shack, sharing the couches, the chairs, blankets, and warmth. Lance changed his appearance, so he could pick up food in town. Hunk and Pidge sent him and Keith knowing looks whenever Keith wrapped his tail about Lance’s wrist or thigh or waist, but Lance simply stuck out his tongue when Keith looked away.

They joined Keith out on the porch, Pidge huddling close when he muttered, “You guys should go back to your school. I’ll be okay out here.”

Pidge replied, equally as low, “Hey. I’ll help you find your family. Then you’ll help me find mine.”

Keith wrapped his tail about her wrist, then, and their collective souls filled with warmth.

A movement came and went, and as per the cavern’s prophecy, the Paladins of New took to a high plateau overlooking the desert. There was only one word to describe what they felt as they stood, shoulder to shoulder, and watched a fireball cut through the night sky.

Whole. 


	29. Hole in the Sky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and the Paladins go across the glowy, explode-y thing to meet Sven, Slav, and Akira.

Shiro held onto Black’s chair as Keith flew the lion toward the glowy explode-y area. Though Keith worked well as team leader and pilot of the Black Lion while Shiro’s clone had been on the ship, Shiro couldn’t help but think that more paladins flying the lions would only help their cause. So he wanted to give Keith a change to work with Black as well. and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. 

When they docked on the opposite end of the wormhole to find Coran and the castle-ship missing, Lance suggested they check the Altean spacecraft. Something in Shiro’s gut irked him, and he refused to ignore it. He lay a hand upon his brother’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Keith, stay here and try to re-establish communications with Coran if you can.”

“What? Why!” He looked like a shocked cat after being thrown into water.

Shiro petted his tail. “I – I don’t like this. An Altean ship, abandoned. It seems too much like a set-up.”

Keith’s tail smacked his hand away. “And you’re afraid that being Galra – ”

“I just want to make sure they don’t shoot first and not care about questions later.”

Keith rolled his eyes and promptly began to ignore Shiro, tapping on Black’s console to try to reestablish communications with Coran.

Shiro’s intuition paid off. He fought one of the two rogue fighters to a stand-still until Pidge broke the man’s helmet, revealing a slightly younger version of himself. Shiro had been flabbergasted, unsure what to even say, before the man whom Slav called “Sven” pointed his blaster at Allura and Lance.

“Where’s my brother, Alteans!”

“Sven,” Slav interjected, “these people are from another reality.”

“Akira’s around here! You found his energy, Slav. I’m not leaving without him.”

“Look, we don’t know this Akira, okay?” Lance stepped forward, only to yelp when a plasma shot hit the floor right next to his boot.

Sven was frantic, screaming, “Tell me where he is!”

A beeping broke the tension, and Slav gasped, “More Alteans! They’re boarding!”

“Then they might have – ”

“We need to go. Now!”

Sven’s face tensed, teeth gritting, but he allowed Slav to lift him up into the ceiling. When the Alteans arrived and knelt before Allura and Lance, Shiro crossed his arms and watched with a skeptical eye. They ended up breaking into two different teams, and Shiro accompanied Allura and the Altean named Hira to the bridge. When Hira explained how they’d eradicated almost all the Galra rebels, Shiro pointed out how Allura had thought all Galra were bad not too long ago. He positively stiffened and barely held his tongue when Allura responded the Alteans could be their closest allies.

Had she forgotten his pack and the Blade?

Thank the Ancients he left Keith in the Black Lion, and his lion rumbled in the back of his mind, reassuring Shiro that Keith was safe, if disgruntled. So Shiro sighed and allowed Allura and Hira to continue their alarming discussion.

After Allura freed the comet, Shiro wanted to go check-up on the other paladins when Lance burst through the doors and onto the bridge.

“ALLURA! SHIRO!” He was sobbing and latched onto his sister the moment she stepped down from the platform.

“Lance! What’s wrong? What happened?”

Lance raised his tear-stained eyes to meet Shiro’s, a warning, a helpless plea within them. The doors behind Lance opened, revealing the Altean scientist who accompanied Hira, and a familiar-looking Galra.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Hira demanded, but Shiro couldn’t take his eyes off this reality’s version of his brother.

A blank look remained upon Keith’s face, void of any emotion. He appeared to be simply existing, rather than truly living. It was like looking at a shell of a person, and to see Keith without the passion that fueled his very existence, hurt Shiro in ways he couldn’t describe.

“They – They made Keith –  _Akira_ , they made him into their slave!” Lance finally muttered, a muted scream strangled by emotions.

“Non-cog are not slaves!” the scientist shouted. “They were brutal warriors who we freed of their violent tendencies.”

“Galrans aren’t violent! It’s the society, not the race!” Lance screamed.

“It doesn’t matter,” the scientist sneered and motioned toward this universe’s Keith. “The Galrans deserved to be punished for what they’d done to Altea and her people, and we succeeded. Akira was the last known Galran, and look at how he now behaves. He has no will to fight.”

“He has no will to live, either!”

Horror pooled low and cold in Shiro’s belly. What had they done to him to make him so…lifeless? Akira barely blinked.

Before Shiro could attack the man, an explosion rocked the ship. The rebels from before – Sven and Slav – tore through the door behind the sentries and Akira, along with Pidge and Hunk.

Neither Shiro nor Allura needed to hear more. Allura attacked Hira, while Shiro drew the Black Bayard and tore forward, slicing through the sentries that would have harmed his team. As he pivoted, his eyes caught sight of the back of Akira’s head and almost vomited. The Altean scientists implanted what appeared to be a cylinder of some sort. They tortured, maimed, and brainwashed his little brother. Akira aimed a blaster directly at Sven, though he had yet to fire.

“It’s okay, Akira,” Sven soothed, hands raised, walking forward in easy stride. “I’m here now. Everything is going to be okay.”

No will? Apparently the scientist didn’t realize whom he was talking about.

As Sven approached, the gun shook in Akira’s hand. Akira couldn’t speak, but tormented cries rent the air. Akira fought against the Altean programming, and as Sven pounced, seizing Akira’s wrist from the front, Shiro grabbed the boy from behind, helping to subdue Akira.

Sven hushed Akira, hand coming up to hit a few buttons on the back of Akira’s head plate. Akira gasped as if he broke the surface after a long dive, and his claws came up to grip the front of his brother’s jumpsuit.

“ _Sven_ …” he cried.  _“Sven, they – “_

Sven ducked his head, resting his forehead upon the top of his little brother’s hair. “I know, Akira. I know.”

“We have to get out of here!” Slav ordered.

Though his insides quivered, Shiro opened his comm. link. “Keith, we need immediate extraction now!”

 _”On my way.”_  

Shiro tried to keep his horror, his rage, from his bond with Black, but the lion rattled the entire helm with its ominous roar.  Shiro jerked his head toward Sven, who nodded and scooped his brother up into his arms. As they met Black by the cargo bay and took to the cosmos, Allura said, “We can’t let them get that comet. They can create another Voltron and use it to terrorize every reality.”

“Comet?” Keith asked before something popped up onto his screen. “They’ve locked onto me.”

“Use the ship as a shield,” Shiro ordered before turning to the kneeling Sven and Slav, who bookended Akira. “We’ll get you the comet. Do you have a ship that can transport it?”

“We don’t need to extract it from the ship,” Akira huffed, still clinging to his brother. “I can fly it.”

Shiro shared a look with Sven before Akira began to shift. He barely held in a gasp as he now lay at their feet, with tanned skin and purple markings on his cheeks.

“You’re not Galran,” Shiro realized with growing awe. “You’re  _Altean_.”  

“Keith, get us to our lions,” Pidge ordered, grunting as she held onto Black’s consoles. “I’ll scan the ship and disable any sentries remotely.”

As soon the team was in their lions, Pidge worked on eradicating the ship while the rest of the team worked on drawing Hira’s fire. As soon as the ship was cleared of the sentries, Black soared back to drop off its passengers. Akira could now stand, though Sven held him close.

“Thank you,” Sven said.

Shiro glanced back at the Black Paladin’s seat and nodded. “Of course.”

When he retreated to the cockpit, Keith asked, “What do we do now? Form Voltron and fight the cruiser?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He must have let some of his uneasiness slip into his voice because Keith glanced back over his shoulder. “You okay?”

No. He wasn’t. He would never be able to un-see the look of terror in Akira’s eyes or the rod that literally tore through his brother’s skull. He’d never be able to quite grasp the level of hatred he held for these Alteans, but he reached down and clasped his brother on the shoulder, tangible proof that Keith was there, alive, and unharmed.

It allowed him to answer, “Never better,” which was, in same way, the truth.

He was glad this wasn’t his reality.


	30. The Once and Future King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: In the blade!shiro series, Kolivan has pretty much adopted shiro as his cub. You have also hinted/revealed, if it was a part of this, that Kolivan is/was mated. How would his mate react to Kolivan claiming shiro?
> 
> *rubs hands together* This takes place around the same time as "Out of the Blue."

In the beginning of the Great War, they met almost daily, Zarkon drawing Kolivan into the astral plane. They sat in the transparent field, ruffling Black’s fur and talking about the horrors they both witnessed, Zarkon as the Black Paladin, Kolivan as the leader of the Blade of Marmora.

They embraced and vented. They sought solace in each other’s presence during a time of absolute despair. Horror and destruction swept through the galaxies Voltron once protected, and both were at a loss of how to stop it.

Eventually, Zarkon lacked the strength to call for Kolivan. Later, he lacked the will.

Ten thousand years passed, and Kolivan thought he would never see the astral plane again – until one night, he opened his eyes to see the transparent purple landscape. Shiro had been talking, sitting at his console and muttering something about Keith and a trip to the space port and a tail piercing. So Kolivan had been tempted to think the cub had brought him here subconsciously, but then he heard the thundering footsteps behind him and the gravelly voice that had once been smooth and warm.

“He’s been here, in this realm,” Zarkon said. “I have felt his presence with my lion.”

Kolivan long stopped bracing himself for Zarkon’s disjointed manner and turned, meeting his mate with a dark countenance. “Whether you believe it, the Black Lion has chosen another. You are no longer its paladin.”

“Lies!” Zarkon roared, his eyes glowing a venomous purple. “He is nothing but an upstart. A cub. I will tear him apart.”

A furious rage raced through Kolivan’s veins, causing his claws to twitch. “You will do no such thing. He is stronger than you know. He will not surrender.”

“Everyone is fallible.”

“He is the Black Paladin. They are stubborn beyond comprehension, as you well know.”

Zarkon’s eyes narrowed; any affection that might have lingered there was gone, replaced by utter disdain. “I see the fight within him. You have been fostering it, teaching him,  _but all your effort will_   _not save him_.”

Kolivan looked away, his bravado failing for a moment, before his fists clenched and trembled. “I will not fail.”

“Hm.” Zarkon spun and began to stride away. “Disengage now, for I will crush him and the Paladins of New. I will take back what is rightfully mine, and you cannot stop me.”

Advice? Concern? After all these years, was that possible? “It is not I who will stop you.”

Zarkon halted, his back completely straight, eyes never turning back toward Kolivan. Perhaps that was mercy.

“What is his name?” Zarkon asked in a wondering murmur.

Kolivan sucked in a sharp inhale. “Takashi Shirogane. Shiro.”

“ _Shiro_ …”

“He reminds me of you, all those years ago. Strong and reserved but passionate.” The weight of his blade tugged upon Kolivan’s waist and soul, a birthright that Shiro would have inherited along with the crown. “He would have been a fair and wise king of Daibazaal.”

“Daibazaal is gone,” Zarkon growled, his threatening tone returning to his voice. “And soon, so will  _your_  cub and any challenge to my reign.”

“Then why come to me? Why bring me here?” Kolivan demanded, teeth gleaming in the purple light. “To order me to stop training him, so you can easily dispose of him? Or are you begging me to stop, so you’ll never have to?”  

Zarkon uncharacteristically remained silent, refusing to turn. He wouldn’t fight a battle he couldn’t win.

“He  _is_  my cub,” Kolivan insisted,  _which makes him yours, too._

Zarkon let out a rumbling growl. “If he is truly mine, then there is only one outcome.”

As if Kolivan would allow anything else.  

“Kolivan…? Kolivan?” A hand upon his wrist jerked Kolivan back into his body, and once he blinked, the leader of the Blade found Shiro standing in front of him with a worried but eager expression. “Are-Are you all right? You seemed to go…somewhere.”

 _Yes, about ten thousand years into the past._ Kolivan took a deep breath and calmed his racing heart. “I am fine. Thank you. Now, explain to me again why Keith is not allowed at the space port without a tail harness.”

Shiro looked skeptical, like he didn’t appreciate Kolivan’s brush off, but he relented. He’d save his argument for a battle he could win.

Like father, like son.


End file.
